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The cool sharpness of the air of a city in chaos hits her face. She is numb. She can barely stand on her feet while the blood of her first love soaks her tank top and her heart. Her body remembers the way Jason hurt her. No. How he tried to kill her and had destroyed another part of her that was still whole. A rare thing in their blackout world.
Her body remembers. Although she barely feels it. The sounds of a city in chaos after what just happened are surrounding her. But she barely takes them in. She feels unfocussed, unreal and unwhole and lost in everything she can't find words for right now. She barely exists.
But then, all of sudden and with a certainty that is Bass Monroe, he is there.
Tall and wide, strong and fight, leather jacket and blue eyes she knows by heart.
Somewhere from very far away his deep Monroe voice is saying her name. Charlie. There is worry and dark madness and roughness in his voice. But there is also care. A deeper new kind of care she has never heard before. Not from anybody. Not from him. But she barely registers it. Barely.
She is numb. She is trying to breathe. She is trying to stay on her feet. She fails. Almost. Because she still is Charlie Matheson Although she can't remember that now.
Bass. Her mind, her heart, remembers. Bass.
His voice pulls her back from the edge of a deep dark abyss she almost fell into, to forever disappear.
'Charlie.’ His voice is low with a new, deeper kind of something she can't place. Yet. There is also worry. Again. And a hint of dark panic while his eyes frantically search for hers.
And there he is. Her eyes finally find him. All of him. Tall and steady and all Bass Monroe.
'Hurts.' It is the first word she can form. The word is leaving her mouth and rolling over her lips. Her mouth is dry. Her voice is broken. Just as she is.
The first real deep wave of pain moves through her body. Her mind forms that word again.
'Hurts.' She tries again. ‘Ribs.’
Bass immediately scans her upper body with trained eyes and military precision. He slowly moves a part of the fabric from her bloody tank top up her body, exposing the beginning of bruises he knows will never heal inside of her.
'Dammit.' his voice is deep again, filled with silent burning Bass Monroe rage. There is raw disbelieve. And there is more. Bass remembers Emma, the blood of first love soaking his uniform in another town, a town he grew up in and now a lifetime ago. But then he shoves it to a place where all his broken things live.
Charlie. She is here. He has found her in the chaos of Austin, his heart a bloody mess of worry for her. Worried sick, seeing it in his brother’s eyes as well, after he and Miles could not find her, or nipples, when all hell broke loose in front of the Capitol building. And he is worried that after whatever the hell happened to her, she might not come back. He needs her to come back. He needs her to be Charlie again.
He immediately looks for her eyes again and finds them, right there waiting for him. Right before she looks away again.
Her eyes have now found the ground. Blood on her face, chaos in her heart. She can barely talk. But she does not have to. Because it is him. She just has to keep looking at him, an unbroken steady and real whisper in her mind and heart. Keep looking at him, is her steady mantra now.
She looks up again. And he is still waiting for her there. Patiently and eyes filled with Monroe blue inside of them on her and only on her, the rest of the city fading.
'I had to....he was going to....' she starts.
She can't say the unspoken words that remind her of a cruel truth. But she does not have to. Because there is an immediate change in his eyes that tells her everything she needs right now without barely knowing she needs to hear those unspoken words. He knows. Bass knows.
And there is rage in his eyes that spreads from his eyes to his chest. He feels the familiair cold pure rage for what happened to her. For what Jason did to her. When he wasn’t there. How he hurt her. When he wasn’t there. How he dared to touch her. For the things he knows she had to do.
But then there is a shift in his eyes. It’s deep and real. And in that moment Charlie sees Bass for the man he is. There is care. Genuine heartbreaking honest care, connecting them both for just a brief but real moment.
He then looks to his left and right to a city still in chaos after what just happened. And then the look on his face changes again. There is steel determination in his eyes, covered in a softer blue she rarely sees. His voice is low and steady.
'We have to go Charlie, all right?'
Charlie. Not the insulting sharp Charlotte that he has been using over and over again since New Vegas. Her mind barely registers it. Barely.
There is an almost hidden apology in his eyes that he has to drag her out of this city into safety. Because he will. He needs to get her out of here. There is a silent but unwavering promise in his eyes.
He grabs her hand and holds her cold hand strongly in his larger hand. It will be her anchor while Bass Monroe guides her out of the city. Away from Jason. Away from the building behind her and what she had to do. Away from what she had to do, did not want to do but will always remember.
His hand. She can barely hold on to it, so he does it for her. He does not let go. She cannot understand the meaning of what Bass is doing for her. Yet.
Her hand in his.
But later, she will remember. She will look back and remember.
Because it will change everything between them.