Hey, it's a new story! Charlie pretends, because it's safer than the real world.

Un-beta'ed, so quibble away.

This story may contain triggering content for some readers, so please exercise caution while reading.

- o – o -

Must Have Been My Imagination

Charlie's always been good at imagining things.

As a child, daydreams had been her way of ignoring the fact that she wasn't having much of a childhood. Her little brother needed someone to look after him because he was so sick all the time, and their father had to work. She could create some pretty fantastic escapes for herself—ones where, if her brother was in them at all, he was whole and healthy and happy and, most of all, didn't need her to look after him.

Her postcards are a big part of her fantasies. The young woman likes to imagine that she's in New York City, standing at the top of the Statue of Liberty. She likes to pretend that she's at Wrigley Field in Chicago, eating a hot dog and ice cream, and Danny is on the field playing baseball like a pro. (She still remembers the taste of ice cream, rich and sweet and creamy and so very cold on her tongue.)

When her father is shot, Charlie shelves her daydreams. She can't hide and pretend that he's still alive. And, of course, Danny needs her again. No one knows how to make the medicine he needs for his asthma. The Militia doesn't know how to listen to his heart to make sure the beat isn't irregular. They'll probably kill him in a week by making him walk behind the wagon, where the dust will aggravate his asthma and the walking will force his heart rate up and kill him—well, that's how daddy always made it sound, but Charlie had dragged Danny off on too many real-world adventures for that to be true.

Charlie's fantasies come back after she murders two men. One of them was killed in cold blood, the other in self-defense. She imagines that she's killing dragons on her way to the tower to rescue her brother from the evil king. Other times, she's in a maze, hacking away at the hedges so she can cheat her way to the center.

Danny is always part of her daydreams now. He's her little brother. She's supposed to protect him. When she sees him on that train, her daydreams fracture and shatter. He's so…lost. Her little brother looks like he's been broken. There are no daydreams to fix that now.

Her daydreams come back when Uncle Miles takes the party to Drexel, an old friend of his who has medicine for Nora. Drexel wants her in exchange for the medicine.

Charlie daydreams that she's the one going to kill O'Halloran, not Uncle Miles. She feels like she's floating, and concentrates on the feel of cloth against her back. It's a dress—pink, with black lace. She always wanted a pink dress, and shoes like what her mother had worn before the blackout. So she gets to wear them in her fantasy world.

(She doesn't notice how much her wrists hurt. She's too deep in her walk to O'Halloran's home. Uncle Miles must be worried sick, locked in his room at Drexel's mansion. Charlie's feet hurt from the shoes she's wearing, but the pink dress is whisper soft against her skin.)

O'Halloran has a grandson. The baby looks like Danny did at the same age. Charlie remembers what her little brother looked like, because their dad had photos from before the Blackout. She smiles as O'Halloran's wife takes their grandson out of the room. She doesn't want to kill him…

Charlie pulls the pin out of her hair, lets the golden curls cascade down her back. She needs to be able to kill O'Halloran, so the pin needs to be in close range.

(Drexel's hands are everywhere. Charlie whimpers and doesn't look at him. The bruise on her face hurts. Drexel bruised her face so O'Halloran would believe her story. He calls her a good girl as she leaves. Charlie retreats back into her daydream as quickly as possible when his hands move up her stomach to her breasts.)

O'Halloran offers her a glass of tea. Charlie's never had any, and she's really thirsty. Her mouth is dry, and tastes like an old rag. The man gives her the glass, smiling. He tells her she looks like his daughter, Bekka—Rebecca. O'Halloran is being so nice to her. Charlie doesn't want to kill him… He pats her on the shoulder, telling her to take her time with her story. He worked in a group called the Special Victims Unit before the Blackout. Victims need time to tell their stories. Charlie smiles at him, feeling hopeful for the first time since the nightmare began.

(Drexel grabs her hair, forcing her head back so she has to look at the ceiling. There's a mirror up there. Charlie closes her eyes and lets the tears slip down her cheeks. O'Halloran is being so nice to her… The gag in her mouth is so disgusting. She wishes she had that glass of iced tea.)

Charlie almost cries when she tells O'Halloran about Nora, her…her sister. She knows what Drexel will do to her sister. She can trade information about Drexel's next shipment—how much is in there, how many guards will be on it, when it will leave—if they just rescue Nora.

She feels so guilty when O'Halloran turns his back on her, speaking softly about all the evils Drexel has committed. But she needs to save Nora, and Aaron, and Uncle Miles. The heavy vase shatters when she smashes it over the former police officer's head. He collapses to the ground, unconscious. She lost the needle with the poison, so she grabs the knife from the sheathe on the man's hip.

(There's a bang as the door opens. Charlie curls up, eyes squeezed tightly shut. She pulls one of the pillows to her chest and hugs it tightly, willing herself back to her fantasy world. It's safer there. She's strong. Only her feet hurt in the fantasy world. She can run away as soon as the job is done. Drexel has his hands on her shoulders, and Charlie begins hiccupping into the gag as her sobbing gets worse.)

Uncle Miles is there. He's not letting her finish her mission. Charlie kisses his cheek and wraps her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder for all she's worth. She didn't want to kill O'Halloran. He was so nice to her. He had iced tea and stories and a few words of comfort for her.

Uncle Miles isn't there. It's Aaron. He has a black eye, and murder in his eyes. He has a pistol, and Nora is behind him, holding a sword. She's using it like a cane, though, one arm wrapped around her middle. Nora stares in shock at Aaron, who just pulls the trigger again.

Charlie whimpers into her gag as Nora cuts her free. There's so much blood… Drexel doesn't have much of a head anymore. Aaron is still pulling the trigger, just to make sure the man is dead.

Charlie hugs both of them. Nora gives her back her clothes, and her stupid tin lunchbox with Return of the Jedi printed on the lid. Her postcards have been put back together somehow. Charlie follows them out of the house, pretending that the dead men on the floor are O'Halloran's family. Johnny was the one who was so nice when she walked up to the gate. Sam told her she could take her shoes off if she wanted to. She doesn't want to see Drexel's men.

Uncle Miles is there. He doesn't believe it when he hears that Aaron shot Drexel, and a lot of Drexel's men.

Charlie just wants her uncle to look after her, even for just a few minutes.

Because in her imagination, everything is alright.

- o – o -

So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Does Charlie need lots of hugs? Drop a line and let me know.

Author's note: I decided to take a break from NaNo for the day. I'm at 39K, and I didn't feel like doing novelling today. So I wrote an AU for episode 6.