The war with the Patriots has been waging consistently for nearly a year. Every time they take out another re-education camp, another pops up to replace it. Even without President Davis, the Patriots won't let up. Miles and Monroe have been working around the clock trying to finally end it.

Charlie has found herself in the midst of battles with the boys on either side of her many times. Screams and gunshots echoing all around them, the metallic scent of blood filling the air, dirt and sweat covering her skin. When the fighting is all said and done, and the body count has been reported, they drag themselves back to their tents and try not to drown under the weight of it. Miles pours himself a glass and distracts himself with Rachel while Monroe just drinks the whole damn bottle. Charlie sucks down more whiskey than such a small person should be able to handle and passes out on her cot only to be shaken awake by a hungover Monroe so they can do it all over again in the morning.

The work is good for them. It keeps them moving forward and away from the monsters at the edge of their minds, but Charlie fears that their escape won't last forever. Soon, one of them - or maybe all three - will succumb to the nagging voices inside their heads and the paradise that they offer.

There are so many of them. The Patriots outnumber their forces eight to one. They need to retreat or risk losing more men.

"Fall back!" Miles shouts, his voice barely audible over the gunshots and clashing of swords. "Get back to the rendezvous!"

The Texas Rangers scatter like roaches, disappearing from the battlefield before Charlie even has time to register that it's time to go. Apparently she isn't the only running behind though, she can see Monroe near the tree line facing off with three brainwashed Patriots. There's no time to look for Miles and get some help so she runs straight in, slashing one of their throats as Monroe guts another. The last one standing takes a hit from Charlie across his abdomen but Monroe finishes him off with a sword in his back. The dead Patriot drops between them and they stare a one another.

"Thanks," Monroe says gruffly.

Charlie shrugs noncommittally as another group of re-educated soldiers approaches. "We need to get out of here," Charlie says, looking around at the few Rangers that haven't evacuated the area yet.

Monroe grits his teeth and takes a defensive stance. "Yeah, I'm working on it."

They work remarkably well together. Back to back, slashing and ducking, stabbing and dodging. They can't afford to stop, there are too many Patriots around for them to make a clean escape and being captured is not an option. It's kill or be killed.

Charlie knocks a rifle out of someone's hand and slashes their throat before turning to the next guy, only to find that there is no next guy. They're all down. She turns around to look at Monroe. His shirt is torn and there's blood dripping from his nose and shoulder, but he is alive. Remarkably, they both are.

He wipes the blood from his upper lip with the sleeve of his black, leather jacket and smirks at her. "Guess we didn't need Miles after all."

Charlie sucks in a deep breath, her heart is still hammering but she manages a smile. "Guess not."

He smiles back, but it slowly sinks to a frown as his eyes train on her stomach. "Charlie..." He approaches slowly and presses his hand against her side. She follows his hand with her eyes, seeing but not quite registering that the dark red stuff soaking her tank top is blood. "Come on, we need to go," he says urgently, but Charlie suddenly has the strong desire to stay and take a nap.

"No, I'm fine," she protests numbly.

But he ignores her and strips off his jacket, then pulls off his dingy, old v-neck so he can wrap it around her waist. "OK, we need to go, but we gotta go slow. Just lean on me-"

BANG!

Monroe jerks backward and falls to the ground as the bullet tears through his chest. Charlie turns in the direction the shot came from, finding a Patriot soldier laying half dead on the ground with a rifle in his hand. On instinct, she grabs the nearest knife and hurls it at the shooter, embedding it deep in his chest.

The adrenaline rush from the earlier battle has worn off and now she's running on fumes. The wound in her side is starting to hurt and she feels light headed.

"Monroe," she starts, as if she's forgotten that he was just shot right in front of her, but then she sees him laying on the ground, his bare chest covered in blood. Charlie drops to her knees next to him and puts her hands out to help, though they merely hover over the gaping hole oozing blood from his chest. There's nothing she can do for this, and they both know it.

"Charlie," he chokes out. He grabs her wrist but his arm goes slack and their clasped hands fall just above his wound. Their eyes meet and something deep in Charlie's chest suddenly starts to burn.

"It's gonna be OK," she says out of nowhere. But Monroe is still alive enough to know better.

"Tell Miles I said, I'm sorry."

Charlie shakes her head, hating the traitorous tears brimming in her eyes, but unable to stop them. "No, you can tell him yourself."

"Charlie..." He lays there for a moment, his eyes locked on hers and his body twitching with pain. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't want this."

"No, just... just stop apologizing. Everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

"Charlie..." And his eyes soften. Not a lot, but just enough that she can feel him looking at her the way only he ever has. That connection that she's been trying to ignore all this time isn't something that just goes away. It hits her as she stares into his deep, blue eyes. He's trying to say goodbye.

"No. You don't get to die," she says thickly.

He reaches up with a bloodied hand and strokes her cheek. Just the gentlest touch against her skin that drags a sob from her chest. "It'll be OK," he says weakly, cradling her cheek in his hand.

Charlie leans into his touch and whispers, "Please don't leave me."

His eyes are fading now as the life drains from his body, but he manages to beckon her closer. "Then come with me," he rasps out.

Her body shakes as another sob tears through her, but she nods and leans in close, pressing her lips against his. He tastes like blood.

"OK," she whispers, but he's already gone.

Sebastian Monroe, a man that she once tried to kill herself, is finally dead. It doesn't feel at all like she had imagined it would. There is no justice, no relief in his death. Only more pain at the loss of someone else she loved.

Charlie slumps down and lays across his bloodied chest, uncaring of the noise she's making as she sobs uncontrollably. The one person that alway came back for her, the only one that seemed to truly understand, is gone. So many people have died. The people she loved and the people she killed. For months now the only thing keeping her upright was Monroe's silent, but unwavering, support. She's not sure that she can do this without him.

The wound in her side continues to bleed and she passes out draped over his chest.

Hours pass. Or maybe it's minutes, or days. Possibly only seconds have gone by when Charlie wakes. Her eyes don't open right away, but she can hear the world around her. The sound of water splashing rhythmically against something and another noise, crowing like a rooster - only it's no rooster she's ever heard before. The air around her feels think and humid. She can taste the tang of something salty on her tongue.

Charlie opens her eyes but the bright sun above her forces them closed again. She sits up and now she can feel the ground beneath her. Not dirt, but something looser and drier. She open her eyes slowly this time, taken aback by the scene before her. A vast ocean, like the ones from her postcards, is laid out before her. The rooster noises are coming from the white birds, not actual roosters of course, flying over the water. It's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

So caught up in the beauty before her, Charlie doesn't notice the young man approach from behind.

"It's perfect, isn't it?" He asks, and Charlie almost literally jumps out of her skin at the sound. The rasp with just a hint of a squeak. She knows that voice.

"Danny?" He merely grins that crooked grin and sticks his arms out for a hug. Charlie's to in shock at the sight of her dead baby brother to react. He looks perfectly healthy and whole. Too long, blonde hair hanging over his light brown eyes and every freckle perfectly in place.

"Danny..." The name catches in her throat this time as she stares up at him, stunned and a little afraid by his sudden appearance. But he leans down slowly and gently touches her hand.

"It's alright, Charlie."

The sound of her name from his mouth just confirms it even more in her head. Regardless of what may or may not be possible, Danny is right in front of her. She launches to her feet and throws her arms around his neck, hugging him so tightly that it hurts. He holds her close for as long as she likes, all the while gently petting her hair like their dad had done when they were young and upset.

Charlie eventually let's go of him, but she stays close and simply stares. "How..." She finally takes notice of their strange surroundings again, glancing around at the beach and nudging a large seashell with her toe. "What is going on?"

But Danny merely smiles and holds out his hand for her to take. "Come on, they're waiting for you."

"Who?" But he doesn't answer. Danny leads her away from the water and up a steep embankment. Just over the crest, the sand beneath their bare feet turns to soft, green grass. A meadow is laid out before them filled with perfect, white daisies. Charlie is so struck by the beauty, and the strangeness, of it that she doesn't notice the others until Danny points them out to her.

"Look over there." He points off to the left and at first she doesn't understand, but then she sees a head of bright, blonde hair poke up above the grass.

"Who is that?" She asks, looking from the blonde hair to her brother.

But he merely smiles and says, "go find out."

Charlie starts forward towards the stranger without a thought, but stops when she realizes that Danny isn't following. "Aren't you coming?" She turns to ask, but he's gone. "Danny?" She calls out, her voice floating through the field of flowers so strongly that she stops to listen.

"Hello," a small voice says from behind her, making Charlie jump. She turns to find that the bright, blonde hair is attached to a little girl. She looks to be about three or four and has deep, blue eyes like the ocean.

"Hi," she replies weakly. As she looks down at the strange, little girl she can't help but feel that they've met before. "Do I know you?"

But the girl merely smiles and holds out her hand. "Come on, we've been waiting for you."

Charlie starts to ask who might be waiting for her, but stops herself at the last second and silently takes her hand. The little girl leads her across the meadow with sure steps, and it's only now that Charlie notices her clothing drifting with the wind. It's a pure white dress made of soft cotton that's draped over her body and skimming down to her toes. The little girl is dressed in similar fabric, both of their dresses flapping in the wind. Charlie tries to think of what Danny had been wearing but finds that she can't remember.

"What is this place?" She asks the little girl as they near the top of a small incline, but her question is forgotten as the rest of the meadow comes into view. It goes on for miles and miles around, the slope in front of them leads down to a small pond filled with water lilies. Even more intriguing, is the man chasing two small boys around it.

The little girl beside her squeals in delight and rushes down to join them, getting scooped up by the man the moment she crosses his path. Giggling and laughter fills the air around her, though all Charlie can do is stare. She watches the man lift the smaller boy and toss him in the air with disbelief.

"Monroe?" She breathes. Not nearly loud enough for him to hear, but somehow he does. His eyes meet hers and Charlie finds herself lost in a sea of ocean blue. There's more emotion in just that one look than she's ever seen the man express. It makes her heart beat happily in her chest, though she steps back as the happiness is clouded by uncertainty.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath as she pictures his body before her, blood oozing from his chest and gasping for air. Sebastian Monroe is dead, she saw it happen.

Then how is he here?

Charlie opens her eyes and sucks in a sharp breath.

"Hey." It's such a simple thing to say. So normal for him to greet her this way, but it tears painfully at her heart like a knife.

"You died," she says weakly.

He nods. "Yes. I did." He smiles softly and reaches for her hand, squeezing gently.

"So now... I'm dead, too." She says slowly.

Monroe's lips pull in a tight line and he shakes his head. "Not necessarily."

"Then why am I here?" She looks around at the foreign meadow and the strange children. "Where exactly is here, anyway? And who are they?" Pointing to the children, she gives Monroe an expectant look. But he just sighs and shakes his head.

"I'm not sure of anything, exactly, but I think that they are supposed to be our children."

"Children?"

"Well, I think they would have been our kids... You know, if I hadn't died." He gives her a long look, his eyes taking in every feature of her face.

"She looks like you. The girl, I mean."

They both look over at the children playing by the pond again and Charlie decides that Monroe must be right. The oldest boy has his wild curls, but Miles' deep brown eyes. The littler one has dark brown hair that hangs in loose curls like Conner's but clearly has Rachel's pale, blue eyes. The girl has Rachel's bright, blonde hair but the gentle waves are all Charlie. The three children are clearly a collection of the Matheson/Monroe traits.

"They're perfect," Charlie whispers.

Monroe squeezes her hand again. "I know. That's why I hate it. I'm here because I died, and they're here because now they'll never get to exist."

A single tear escapes down her cheek but he quickly brushes it away with his thumb. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

Shaking her head, Charlie gives him a watery smile. "It's OK. We're all here now, that's all that matters."

He sighs sadly and looks away, making panic flood her heart.

"What, what's wrong?"

Their eyes meet again, and this time all she can see is sadness. "Come with me." He takes her hand in his rough, calloused one and leads her away from the pond and the children, back towards the field of daisies.

Charlie looks up at him as they walk, clad in a white cotton shirt and matching shorts. He seems, not necessarily happy, but calmer here, like he's finally at peace. But there's also a grim way about him, like he's dreading something to come.

She stops walking and pulls him around to face her. "Just tell me what's wrong, Bass."

A small smile breaks out at her use of his nickname, but it quickly tilts back into a frown as he reaches out to touch her cheek. "I'm a selfish man, Charlie."

Leaning into his touch, she presses her palms to his chest, feeling his warmth beneath her hands. "So? What does that have to do with anything?"

He opens his mouth to say something but changes his mind at the last second. "Nothing. I just... I wanted to make sure you knew."

Charlie chuckles and stands up on her tip toes, her lips hovering just an inch from his. "It doesn't really matter now, does it?"

He smiles like a child that's just received the best gift ever and kisses her. It's sweet and gentle, their lips moving slowly as they get to know each other. His hands tangle in her in long hair and he tilts her head back as his tongue slips tentatively between her lush lips, earning a soft moan from her. Then the kiss changes entirely. Lips bruising, teeth clashing, hands grabbing at every inch of flesh. Every argument, every sarcastic quip, every lingering glance is funneled into it, spreading passion and heat like wildfire.

Charlie eases her hands beneath his shirt, feeling his muscles ripple deliciously under her fingertips. He yanks the white cotton over his head and stands bare chested and whole before her. Her fingers ghost over the spot where the bullet tore through him, finding nothing but warm, healthy flesh. Bass places his hand over hers, pressing it directly over his beating heart.

Another tear rolls down Charlie's cheek. "I love you," she whispers.

He takes her face in his hands and wipes it away. "I love you, too."

They return to the gentle exploration of each other, their tongues delving deep and their hearts beating in time with each other. The smooth cotton of her dress skims down her body and falls to the grass. Bass lowers her down onto a soft, fluffy blanket that's white as snow and tosses his white shorts into the pile with his shirt and her dress.

The heat between them is almost too much and Charlie is so aroused that she thinks she might burst. She's never wanted any man like this before. She needs him, needs to feel him around her and inside of her all at once. Their eyes meet and it's like he understands without any words necessary. He slides into her slowly, inch by inch sinking into her velvety depths. They move together slowly, their bodies intertwined, making them both feel complete for the first time ever.

Charlie wraps her legs around his waist as he moves, letting him sink deeper inside of her with every thrust. Their eyes lock as they continue to move in time with each other, a rhythm both entirely new but familiar to the two lost souls. The world shatters in a sea of kisses and breathless praises, leaving them both sweaty and sated in a heap on their fluffy blanket.

Sleep comes quickly, or maybe it isn't sleep at all but merely a break in time where they can be still for just a little while. When Charlie wakes, she finds Bass sitting at the edge of their blanket staring off into the distance. The look in his eyes is that of one in mourning, like he's lost someone recently.

And then it hits her.

"This isn't real. I'm not really here, am I."

He shakes his head with a sigh and stands. "I need to show you something."

Slipping her dress back over her head, Charlie let's him lead her back across the field of daisies towards the beach. The moment her feet hit the sand, the air becomes humid again and tastes of salt. Bass leads her right up to the water's edge so the waves trickle over their toes.

"What-"

"Look." He points into the water just in front of them and at first she thinks he's lost his mind because all she can see is water, but as she stares the water changes. Distorts in a haze of colors like smoke. It rearranges itself to form a picture. But not just any picture, there are people in it, and they're moving.

It's not just anyone either. As she looks into the water window, Charlie sees her grandfather hovering over a bed with his stethoscope out. She can't see the patient though because Miles is in the way.

"Who else got hurt?" She asks Bass, though he merely shakes his head in answer.

As they continue to watch through the window, Miles moves off to the side just enough for Charlie to see none other than herself lying pale and bloody in the bed. Gene is trying desperately to stop the bleeding in her side, but it doesn't look good. Charlie steps back from the window in shock. Knowing that you're dead is one thing, but actually seeing it happen is something else altogether. Bass takes her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, but she rips it away, anger suddenly tearing at her chest.

"Why are you showing me that? What's the point of this?"

He reaches for her desperately. "Because you need to see it so you can make a choice."

She stops struggling against him. "What do you mean, a choice. I'm dead, that's that." Bass suddenly looks a bit awkward and hesitant, making her feel unsure. "Unless I'm not dead," she says quietly.

Sighing, he pulls her close and kisses her gently on the lips. "I don't know what happened. I don't really understand any of this, I am pretty new at being dead, but I don't think that you're supposed to be here."

"Well then how did I get here?"

"I'm not sure, but... maybe when I asked you to come with me... I don't know, maybe it took me seriously." He looks away from her guiltily. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I didn't mean for you to actually come here."

"So you don't want to be with me?" It seems like a silly question, all things considered, but Charlie can't help but feel insecure after she's bared her soul to him.

"No, of course I do," he says quickly. "I already told you, I love you. But I can't ask you to stay here when you have a life to go back to."

Charlie shakes her head. "No, not without you."

"What about Miles and your mom?"

She laughs humorlessly. "They have each other, they don't need me."

"Yes they do, Charlie. More than you know." He points back to the water window and they watch as Rachel runs into the room and spots her daughter, bloody and dying, on the bed. It almost seems unreal to watch her face crumble and the tears stream down her cheeks as she holds onto dying Charlie's hand.

"See?" Bass says. "It's sad that it takes you almost dying for her to figure it out, but Rachel needs you, Charlie. She won't be able keep going if she loses you, and the world is counting on her."

"What do you mean?"

"The nano. Your mom is the only one that can stop it, but without you she'll lose her mind completely this time and then the nano will take over."

"So-so you want me to go..." Her heart feels like it's breaking all over again after being whole for such a short amount of time, but Bass grabs her by the shoulders to face him and makes her meet his eyes.

"No. If I had my way, we would stay here forever, together. But I've been selfish my whole life, causing pain everywhere I go. Maybe it's time to do the right thing."

"No, I want to stay-"

"Charlie listen, if Rachel doesn't stop the nano, then it will take over everything and everyone. There won't be anymore happiness, anywhere, ever again. If you don't go back, the entire world will be stuck in a life without happiness, sadness, anger, even love. There won't be anything left."

Wrapping her in a tight embrace, he kisses the top of her head. "I don't want you to leave," he whispers. "But I have to let you go."

Tears slip down her cheeks, staining his white shirt. "I don't want to go," she cries.

"It'll be OK, baby. It's not forever."

And it seems terrible to hope for it, but now Charlie can't wait until the day she dies.

"How do I get back?" She asks shakily.

He takes her hand in his and leads her down the beach. They stop in front of a large seashell, about the size of a football, and Charlie looks at it. "This is where I woke up. Well, it's where I woke up right after I died... I guess."

Bass nods. "Me too. It should take you back."

And even as the words leave his lips, Charlie's vision starts to blur. His face becomes hazy and the sea smelling air is gone, his voice sounds far away.

"I love you, Charlie."

But now that she's faced with the reality of actually leaving, she realizes she doesn't want to go. The idea of going back without him, to be all alone again, is unbearable.

More tears fall down her cheeks as she whispers, "come with me."

She can't hear what he says in return, but she sees his smile and knows that he will never leave her alone.

Everything hurts. The pain is radiating from her side, making it nearly impossible to stay where she is. Charlie opens her eyes, finding an old, decrepit ceiling above her. She groans in pain, shocking the person laying with their head propped on her bed from sleep.

"Charlie, oh my God. Gene! Rachel! She awake!"

Miles leans over her and into her line of sight. "Jesus, kid, you scared the shit out of me."

Smiling weakly, Charlie reaches for his hand and squeezes. "Big baby."

He grins, trying to hide the tears of relief as Rachel comes running full speed into the room, nearly knocking him over in her haste to reach her daughter.

"Oh, Charlie. Oh, my little girl." She starts sobbing in earnest and it's almost too much for Charlie to bear. Normally her mother barely tolerates her presence, so this is definitely a big change. She pats her mom's shoulder awkwardly.

"I'm fine, Mom. Seriously."

"You are not fine," Gene says as he comes into the room. He already has his stethoscope out and is checking her vitals before Charlie can even say hello. "You were stabbed in the kidney, so I had to remove it. Not to mention three broken ribs, you're damn lucky they didn't puncture a lung. I can't believe you're even awake." He stops his exam and gives her a watery smile. "I honestly thought we'd lost you."

Charlie frowns. "All of that stuff... How long have I been out?"

"Almost three days," Miles tells her.

"It didn't feel like it was that long," she says, but it's more to herself. Of course her dream had felt like it was only a few hours, apparently dream time is different than real time. It felt so genuine and life-like, but now she feels kind of silly for thinking that it was real. She wonders, and even let's herself hope for a moment, if maybe the dream had been wrong about Bass' fate.

"Where's Bass?"

But judging by the dark expression on her uncle's face, that part of the dream had at least been true.

"He's dead, isn't he." She says quietly. Miles simply nods.

Gene finishes up with his exam while she sits in subdued silence. Her heart feels heavy with the loss of her only friend and the world seems a little less bright without him. Despite everything she'd done to stop it, Bass had somehow managed to carve out a place in her heart for himself, and now she feels lost without him.

Gene puts away his equipment and gently squeezes her shoulder. "You should rest, sweetheart. I don't want you moving around for a while. Having a kidney removed is no laughing matter, you need to give your body time to heal."

"OK, Grandpa."

He leaves the room, dragging a reluctant Rachel with him, and leaving Charlie alone with Miles.

"You OK, kid?"

She gives him the best smile she can muster and nods. "Yeah, I'm just tired I think."

"Well rest up then." He sends her a small smile, filled with relief that she's alive. "Enjoy it, though, 'cause there's no way I'm letting you lay around forever."

Charlie rolls her eyes as he leaves the room and leans back against the pillows piled on her bed. Her eyes quickly drift closed and she's asleep in minutes. Her dreams are filled with meadows full of flowers and ocean waves tumbling over the beach. There are small children as well, all clad in pure white cotton and smiling widely. Charlie wakes with the feel of warm lips against hers only to open her eyes and find herself alone in the family's safe house.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

It was just a dream. It wasn't real. Those kids don't exist and Bass is dead. Now she'll never know what would have happened if she had just let herself love him when there was still time.

She can picture the scene perfectly in her mind, like the most elaborate fantasy she had ever imagined. The fluffy blanket beneath them, his body pressed against hers, the beautiful meadow in the background. It had been absolutely perfect, but also pointless. She'll never get to feel the real thing.

Suddenly, as if commanded by some imaginary voice in her head, Charlie wants to see Bass. Not actually see him, but his body, the place where he was burried. She eases herself out of bed, ignoring the pain in her side, and shoves her feet into her boots. Making her way out of the house is easy since it's the middle of the night. Everyone else is sleeping, she can even hear Miles snoring upstairs. She tumbles down the steps of the front porch out into the yard, looking left and right in the moonlight for recently disturbed earth.

It takes about ten minutes with her slow movements, but she eventually finds what she's looking for in the back yard beneath a tall maple tree. There's no cross to mark his grave, Miles must know better than to try that one, but there is a marking on the tree just above Bass Monroe's final resting place. An 'M' encased in a circle and just beneath it, the letters 'B. M.'

The sight brings tears to her eyes and she sinks to her knees next to the fresh mound of dirt. Her fingers sink into the dirt and she squeezes, trying to hold back thebsobs threatening to escape her chest. She loses the battle, letting them break over her like the ocean waves over her toes.

A twig snaps, pulling her back from her misery and putting her senses on high alert. But one look around her shows nothing, not a soul in sight. She wipes her eyes and is preparing to get to her feet when he steps out from behind the maple tree.

Holey jeans, black leather jacket, blue eyes, and blonde curls.

Charlie blinks several times and rubs her eyes expecting him to disappear, but with each pass of her hand he's still there. Bass is standing right in front of her, his smile soft and gentle, his eyes full of love and warmth.

"Wh-"

"Charlie?" Miles' voice cuts over her confusion and she can hear his footsteps coming around the house, though she can't take her eyes off of the man standing in front of her.

"Charlie, are you out here?"

She looks back at the house for just a moment as Miles comes around the corner. "Over here," she manages to squeak out. Pointing at Bass she says, "look, it's-" But when she looks back at the maple tree, Bass is gone.

"Look at what?" Miles asks distractedly. "Charlie, what the hell are you doing out here, Gene told you to stay in bed."

But she's still staring at the spot where Bass just vanished from.

"Charlie? Kid, what's wrong?"

"I..." She sighs, hating herself for even believing it for a moment. "Nothing. I think I need to go back inside now."

Miles helps her to her feet and basically carries her back inside. They get her settled back in bed with an agreement not to mention her little outing to Rachel and Gene before Miles heads back to bed. He shuts the door to her bedroom, revealing Bass standing behind the door.

Charlie sits up straight in shock, her heart leaping up into her throat. "How are you... What are you doing here?"

He leans back against the wall with a smug smile. "Well, you asked me to come with you."