Archive - TV Show - Revolution (2012, NBC)

Main Characters - Charlotte 'Charlie' Matheson, Nate Walker/Jason Neville

Posted: November 22, 2013

This is the last chapter. After the fourth and some time passed, I marked it complete and really didn't intend to add an additional chapter. (I didn't remove that promise though...) I've recently started to catch up on Revolution so I decided to finish this up. By now, people who have caught up with the show know Nate's real name, so minor spoilers ahead.

Thank you everyone for your favorites, views, reviews and alerts.

The Stranger is the Enemy

Nate relaxes his bow and swiftly replaces arrow in it's quiver and to it's hostler on his back once he's safely outside the Grand Tavern and tries to look casual.

As he blends into the crowds, he swallows the lump in his throat, trying to erase Charlie's face from his mind – the unshed tears from her uncle's rejection, the look of betrayal and numb shock,

The Militia camp was situated in an abandoned neighborhood of Chicago. The guards turned towards him as approached, readying their weapons. He pulled down his sleeve to show his Miltia brand and wished for a flashing moment, there was some way to tear it off.

"Lieutenant Jason Neville," he introduces. "From the Philadelphia Militia."

His words make the guards straighten up and look at him with new respect. "I have an important mission to complete; I'll need to speak with your senior officer or Captain."

"We'll have someone escort you to his tent immediately," the first guard said as his partner blew on wooden whistle three times. A few seconds later, two young Militia boys appeared; Nate inwardly frowned at the one boy's appearance. He looked too young for this. 12 , 14? That or he was too skinny for this. The other looked solid enough; as if he could punch his partner's head off.

"Jerry, Ed – escort the Lieutenant Neville to the Captain,"

"Yes, sir. If you'll follow us Lieutenant,"

He felt a tightening around his heart as he walked further into the orderly camp – neatly set up tents all in rows, tables and chairs – horses tethered by their owner's tents for brushing and grooming and horses being led back to the horse paddocks;

It felt familiar yet oppressive – this neat, militaristic, ordered and controlled atmosphere as compared to open road and the wilds that reclaimed the land human civilization had taken from them.

"...Most people just say good morning."

"I was just...Good morning."

Nate shoved thoughts of Charlie out of his mind as they drew level with the Captain's tent in the center of the compound.

"So, what'd you say to her, huh?"

"A moment," The voice of one his escorts, interrupted his musings, much to his relief. The burlier of the two, Ed, ducked inside.

Jerry shuffled nervously.

"Hey,"

The boy jumped at the sound of Nate's voice. "Deep breaths, kid. Steady yourself. Keep tension in your abs – makes you more solid, more grounded."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Ed came back. "The Captain will see you, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, soldiers," Nate said, ducking inside.

"The Captain told us to wait here for further orders." Ed added to Jerry.

"The Miles Matheson?" the Captain breathed. "Right under our noses."

"Yes – we'll need to act quickly though."

"Of course, of course...You!" he gestured to his scribe – a man a little younger than Nate. "Go tell those two outside to gather a squad on orders from the Captain."

"Yes, sir,"

"Good work, Lieutenant. I'm sure your superior officer and the General will be pleased."

"Thank you, sir."

"I do owe you for saving my life,"

Nate let his short nails dig into his palms and bit his lip as the Captain turned to prepared his weapons.

Lust. That's what it is.

And it got under his skin fast, this attraction to the Matheson girl.

A few weeks separation is what I need to put everything in perspective.

He'd seen the way his father loved his mother, the way he looked at her when she wasn't looking – but Charlie was the enemy, essentially. Her only loyalty was to her family – which he was not. And his loyalty was with his family.

There are people you will meet who you believe you can be friends with. But they will be on the other side of the line. They are your enemy. Remember that.

"Ready, Lieutenant?"

"As I'll ever be,"

"Stay back," the Captain said to Nate as the Militia soldiers rode through the streets of Chicago. People smartly cleared the way, not wanting to be forcibly moved. "You need to deliver the news to the General personally. And Matheson is dangerous."

"Of course, sir."

That suited him just fine.

When they arrived at the Grand, the dim lights had been mostly put out and all of the patrons were gone. It was empty.

The Captain sighed as the soliders fanned out, guns loaded and ready. "He's gotta be long gone,"

Nate hummed quietly to himself. Matheson didn't seem like the type. Hiding not a half mile away from the nearest militia encampment – practically in plain sight.

"If he's here, Monroe wants him alive." he said.

The Captain nodded, deferring to his judgment and made several hand signs at his soldiers, gathering them together to search the back rooms.

The fight was horribly one-sided. He felt a twinge of guilt – essentially sending all those soldiers to die in a futile attempt to capture the runaway General of the Militia.

He didn't stay to see the whole fight; he'd seen all he needed to. The Captain didn't even notice his departure.

He needed a better plan – maybe a lure. A way to lure him to Philadelphia. Well, if he went with Charlie, his problem would be solved. He just needed Danny to get to Philadelphia and he needed to get the two estranged family members to cooperate...

He slipped past the fighting soldiers, Maggie and Aaron through another door further to Aaron's left and slips quietly out of the front door, careful not to be noticed.

What he sees makes his heart stop.

A militia solider was furiously (sloppily) and repetitively swinging his sword down at Charlie who was on the ground, against the wall as she used her crossbow as a shield.

As he swung his sword up again, Nate darted in, stopping the sword slash with the top of his recurve bow, disarming him with a swift left-turning motion and then smacking him the jaw. The force knocked the solider off-balance, sending him tumbling down the steps in a heap, stunned unconscious.

Charlie stared at him, confusion in her eyes, gasping for breath. Nate wanted to say something, anything but what?

I'm sorry your father died, that was an accident.

I'm sorry we took your brother but we needed insurance.

I'm sorry I used you to get your uncle – I was following orders.

I'm militia because my father told me to join.

Charlie, are you alright?

That last one sounded good.

"Charlie?"

At the sound of Maggie's voice, Nate looked behind him to check that he hadn't been spotted and fled down the stairs, over the body of the fallen solider, feeling Charlie staring after him.

He borrowed a militia horse; the citizens kept their eyes down as he rode out, away from the Grand. Away from the militia camp.

Those men would hate him, if they remembered him, for leaving their comrades behind, for not notifying people of their deaths.

But he needed to get away. Deep breaths - keep yourself solid - tension in your belly, your abs.

It's just lust. Right?

His father was fair but the rage that he'd face if he let something as trivial as this interfere in the completion of his mission. He swallowed in his throat and rode to the edge of Chicago.

He'd trade the horse for supplies.

And THAT was the last chapter! I suggest you remove from alerts now because there will be no more of this story. I MIGHT write another missing scenes story but no promises.