Rated M for later chapter(s), slight angst and for the strong language.

This story starts from episode s01e10 and is an altered version. Eventually Charloe.

I do not own anything of Revolution.

It's always darkest before the light

Chapter 1

"Choose me!", Charlie protested, getting up from the couch and trying to protect her brother Danny from Strausser. His gun was pointing at them.

Monroe was silent, just watching the scene unfolding in front of him. His mouth slightly open in awe, like he had forgot what to say.

Rachel cried like a wounded animal when she realized the life of her children were in danger.

"Stop it! I will finish your damn amplifier!", Rachel shouted.

Charlie didn't remember a lot of it when she asked Monroe to have a word when he was leaving.

"You can say what you want here.", Monroe said.

"No. They don't need to know.", Charlie said.

"Don't.", Rachel protested and Danny just looked at her with sad eyes, knowing he was unable to fight their opponent.

"Take Rachel and Danny to their cell.", Monroe told his men.

Strausser insisted on staying with a gleam in his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

Monroe looked at him, a stern warning in his voice. "Don't you have things to do?"

Strausser shot a dirty look at them and then he left.

"What is it?", Monroe asked, his gaze on her.

Charlie looked at him. "I'll do anything if you let my family go."

Monroe chuckled a bit. "I'm sorry but I don't need a young girl. You don't have anything I want."

"What if I offer my company on the dinner table?"

This time Monroe laughed. His genuine smile lit his usually grim and cold features. He would have been good looking if he wouldn't have been a psychopath killer, Charlie thought quickly.

"You are something different, Charlotte, that much I've gotta say.", Monroe said, his smile fading as quickly as it had appeared.

Charlie looked at him, still feeling the adrenaline. She knew she was loosing this game.

"But I have to tell you no.", he said.

"I'll do anything.", she said, this time desperation in her voice.

"I'm not interested.", Monroe said and called his soldiers to take her in.

Charlie was left alone to her cell. She was relieved. She just couldn't take her mother now. Also taking care of Danny who was practically an adult, was sometimes a tiring job. It was Rachel's time to take care of him. She sat on the bunk and closed her eyes. Trying to rest and calm down.

Monroe walked into the hallway of his manor. He saw that the double doors to his office were open.

"Excuse me, General. I took the liberty of waiting for you at your office.", Neville said.

"And why is that?", Monroe asked, cold blue flashing in his eyes, his mouth a thin line.

"I got some good news you must hear straight away.", the dark skinned man said, almost smiling.

Monroe walked to the side table and poured himself a shot of whiskey. "Tell me."

"We searched the several addresses Mrs. Matheson gave us. All the others were abandoned but one. There was a certain doctor, Bradley Jaffe."

Monroe felt a new kind of excitement, feeling the hope of everything turning into right direction. It was washing his anger away. His eyes went dreamy. He would finally get his amplifier, in a way or another. That was the most important thing to him. To get electricity, at least partially, was equal to get more power in this God forgotten world.

"Is he willing to help us?"

"We had to make him… a bit more susceptible for that."

"Good. Let's have him take a look at the Rachel's machine. I want to see her face when he tells her it's not an amplifier."

"General… I have a hunch it's not gonna be that easy."

Monroe knew that Neville was usually right with his unnaturally accurate instincts. He listened to him carefully.

After taking care of the matters and deciding not to tell Rachel about them (and putting her away from her machine before it was completed), he was going back for his office. There was complete silence, greeting him. The night had fallen. The maid had lit candles for him, in case he worked late hours. He looked at his glass. He didn't want to drink now. He enjoyed the feeling of everything falling into it's place. He remembered how brave Charlie Matheson had been. It piqued his interest.

It was late, but being a General in your own Republic had it's pros. Monroe walked inside the penitentiary. His stride was strong and confident and he knew where he was going.

He stopped at Charlie Matheson's cell. The guard opened the door.

Charlie rose from her bunk. She blinked her eyes for the light torch.

"Sorry to wake you., Charlotte.", Monroe said.

"What is it?", she asked, looking a bit worried.

"I changed my mind. I think I could consider your offer."

"My resolve hasn't changed.", Charlie said, looking at straight into his eyes.

Monroe gazed at her. His ice blue eyes scanning her carefully. "Do you understand what you are saying?"

"Yes."

She stared at him. Challenging him. That was all there was left to do. She wasn't going to give up now. Monroe wouldn't have got this far from his cozy bed in the middle of the night if he wasn't at least considering her offer. Only thing that remained a mystery to her, was the reason he changed his mind.

"Am I getting this straight, you would sleep with me to get your family out?"

"If I have to.", Charlie said, standing as tall as she could.

Monroe snorted. "I guess we'll have that dinner then."

Charlie just stood there. He wasn't sure but she seemed to breath easier.

"Good night, Charlotte."

She only nodded to him, then she was locked in her cell again.

Charlie woke up to some noise. She had fallen asleep again. Knowing that her plan had worked. She realized that she had to be relieved to fall asleep so well. Then someone came to her door. A militia man came and opened the door.

"It's time.", he said.

"Time for what?", Charlie asked, being detained and pulled out of the dark room.

"To attend dinner with General Monroe."

Charlie opened her mouth and closed it. This was it.

She was guided to a room to get herself cleaned and if she wanted, to change clothes. She noticed fresh water in a big white bowl, ornated with small flowers. The same pattern in an old water jug. There was a wash cloth and a pristine soap, in a handmade case, a small bow on it.

She took her dirty tank top off and tried to wash the sweat and dirt away from her skin with the cloth. She was standing in front of the mirror wearing her bra and jeans. The chain on her waist slightly jingling when she wiped a stain furiously. She chose a white shirt with a round neck for herself, suddenly feeling the need to cover herself.

She noticed something on the floor. It was a thin piece of steel, about quarter of an inch wide and two inches long. Sharp on the other end. She remembered seeing such a thing as a child. Probably used for cleaning nails or something. She put it in her pocket.

When she was ready, she was guided to a private dining room. Monroe was already there. Instead his black uniform, he had a white dress shirt and black pants. The candles lit on the table, shining soft yellow light, a vase of white lilies in the middle.

"Hello Charlotte.", his voice sounding soft.

"Hi."

She was going for the chair but Monroe got up and pulled it for her. "Here you are."

"Thank you."

She sat down, trying to have something to do with her hands. She found the napkin, opened it and put it on her lap.

"You are well raised.", Monroe commented.

"Well, whaddya know."

The waiter brought the food and served it to them.

"Thank you.", Charlie said.

"That's all for now.", Monroe said and told her to leave with a gesture.

Charlie hadn't seen food for what seemed like ages ago. She took a bite of the meat.

"So, what was your life like back in the Sylvania Estates?", Monroe asked her.

"The Militia came for my father but they killed him and took Danny instead.", Charlie said, gazing him blatantly.

"I meant before.", Monroe said, dissatisfied for her answer.

"Don't like what you hear?", Charlie challenged.

Monroe didn't answer. He just looked at her and put a piece of potato in his mouth.

"I'm not here to pretend that you're just a nice guy from the next door. I'm here to negotiate for the release of my family. Or what's left of it anyway. So don't give me that crap."

She watched something dark moving over his face and flash of anger in those deep blue eyes. Which now seemed almost black for the dim lights of the candles.

"I know what you really are. Inside you're just cold emotionless psychopath. Who loves to see other suffer and crawl in the dirt for him. You're just a paranoid megalomaniac."

A dangerous silence fell.

"No one talks to me like that.", Monroe said.

It was in an amazing speed how he rose from his seat and went after her. Charlie was lucky to even get up, but she was ready to defend herself. She pulled the steak knife at his throat, but Monroe grabbed her hand before she had the time to hurt him. Stopping just in front of her.

She watched his eyes seethe rage not far from hers. If Monroe had squeezed her hand any harder, she wondered if the bones in her arm start to crackle like dry twigs under the pressure.

"Well, maybe Miles. But not you.", he said, warning in his voice.

Charlie felt the adrenaline in her veins, making her ready for anything. She trembled slightly.

"Fuck you.", she whispered, looking him straight in the eye, knowing that he heard every word.

She watched the myriad of feelings change rapidly over his features. First amazement, then anger, then something else. It was like he had trouble deciding what to do with her.

She wondered if he was going to kill her, when he suddenly broke into laughter. She was so ready to fight that she winced, scared of the sudden sound.

"You really are something else.", he said, still smiling.

Charlie breathed in.

"Just like your mother.", he said softly.

Monroe let her go. Charlie rubbed her hand. They sat down.

"If you are still willing to do anything for your family, I'll have that arranged. If not, I will not hold it against you. You are very young and you don't know what you are doing. I will provide you your own bedroom down the hall where mine is, for the time being. If you are interested, you can always come to see me. I'm not forcing you. It's completely your decision. I have women who actually are interested of spending time with me. I don't need you.", Monroe said.

"I'm sure they line up just for you.", Charlie said, unfriendly smile on her face.

"You strangely remind me of Miles too.", he said.

One evening Charlie was waiting for their meals with Monroe. The waitress was a young woman. Her brown hair tied, her dress shirt formal white, with black skirt. She put the dishes to the table. But when lifting the saucepan, she somehow managed to drop some. A few droplets landed on Monroe's clothes. She put the pan away and just stood there, nervously, her head down. Her gaze pointing down to her shoes.

"I apologize, General Monroe.", she said.

Charlie watched the situation unfold. She couldn't believe her eyes when Monroe got up and took a horse whip from the side table. Her fingers tightened around her fork. Her thoughts going for a piece of metal inside her clothes. She had put it under her bra if things would turn south.

Her muscles tightened and she was ready if Monroe would start to punish the waitress. She watched him hit her. The first hit was not very hard but the waitress was so scared that she fell on the floor, in a sobbing heap. Charlie felt anger fill her veins and she jumped.

Either Monroe didn't know what was coming at him or his attention was completely on the poor waitress below him, that he didn't even look at her direction.

Charlie jumped on him from behind, her arm around his neck. She placed a swift kick to his knee from behind, making him fall into a weird position, almost as he was going to propose the poor waitress or something.

She pushed the fork, so hard that the sharp spikes pressed a bit through the skin the of his neck, causing small drops of blood to rise.

"If you hit her again, I will stick this through your artery."

"Charlie… What are you doing?"

"I'm speaking the only language you know. Violence."

"What do you know..."

"She should not be punished for a mistake. Let her go."

Monroe told the waitress to leave. Charlie pulled the fork out from his skin. She didn't let him go. She was distracted when she felt him suddenly lean against her, feeling his shoulders pressing against her chest, his head heavy under her grip.

In other circumstances, she would have noticed how warm he was, his alluring scent. The tight dark curls on his head, which continued down to the nape of his neck. This wasn't the time for that.

She guided his weight past her, not towards her and tried to get away from him. He didn't let her. She sat down, not because she wanted to but because two strong hands pulled her back, from the waist of her jeans.

She gazed Monroe, breathing heavily. He was lying on his back now. She wasn't sure what to expect. She had just challenged him. And what was worse, at the presence of his servant. She guessed he wasn't too happy for that.

"I have never met anyone like you.", he finally said.

His face turned into knowing smile. Charlie tried to get up again.

"Wait..."

"Are you fucking serious?", Charlie said, trying to decipher the look on his face.

"I want to know. Did that do to you what it did to me?"

"You really can't be turned on by someone trying to kill you. That's sick.", she said and she mustered all her strength to get up. He didn't stop her this time.

"The answer is no.", Charlie said, angry again. She stood over him, looking down.

Monroe got up, easily. He took a cloth and wiped the wounds on his neck.

"I wasn't going to hurt her. Much. I wanted to see your reaction."

"What?", Charlie said, being now even more disgusted.

"You didn't disappoint me."

"Are you insane? This is your idea of some sort dark of courtship?"

Monroe looked now excited. Charlie wrapped her arms around herself.

"I'm done with your sick games.", she said and sat by the table.

They ate their meals without further disturbance. Charlie didn't want to speak to him. She could barely be around him now. Knowing what he was capable of and how far he had gone from the guy who Miles knew when he was young.

Actually, she had lost her appetite but she ate because the best food she got, was when she was having a dinner with Monroe. She ate because she needed all the strength she could have. For what was coming.

Thanks for the awesome comments and great support so far.

I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do when writing it. Leave a comment if you like!