He has left her. They are in the middle of fucking nowhere, surrounded by a creepy as fuck forest filled with endless silent fog, looking for StayPuft when he should be looking for his son. With every step he takes away from her, raw tension flows through his shoulders and jaws.
He's pissed at Miles. He's pissed that he's refusing to tell him where his kid is. He's pissed at a brother who betrayed him again. He's pissed he is being used to find someone that he doesn't give a fuck about. He's pissed at himself because of what he is willing to do to give Miles what he wants, before he finally, for fucking once, gets what he wants. All he wants and all he needs and craves, is to find his kid who is out there.
But she, her…Charlie…she doesn't deserve all that old and new rage that is meant for Miles. He slows down. Those kaki assholes were right around the corner and the hallway had been filled with the sound of their boots when his eyes had locked with hers, right before he had left her to fight them on her own. He had seen her anger for his decision reflected in her eyes when she had realized what he was going to do, right before he had walked away from her. But it isn't that anger that's slowly starting to fuck with his head with every step he takes away from her, it's the raw hurt written in her eyes and the almost invisible wave of vulnerability in the middle of her Matheson rage, that was so unlike her.
Her eyes won't leave him alone. All of a sudden he realizes that she might be a part of why he is here, today. And he knows he has to go back. 'Dammit,' his soft curse fills the space of empty hallway.
When he finds her, a kaki asshole has his hand around her neck and her trapped against a wall. Seeing her like this, with that asshole daring to touch her, fills him with rage. He kills the first asshole, she does the rest.
When it's over and the bodies are on the ground around them, the hallway is silent and filled with nothing but them. She looks up and her eyes find his. Her eyes are filled with a new depth he has never seen. It feels like she is about to say something. But then, the blue of her eyes changes. And he sees the anger and deep hurt he deserves written in there. And he can almost sense how she changes her mind and hides the words she was meant to say for him.
Bass wants to say something to her, but he can't. The moment burns between them. Until the sound of the threat of a new group of patriots right around the corner finds them, and all they can do is fight again, together, fight until there is a way out.
She hasn't talked to him for three whole fucking days. They lost Staypuft's girlfriend and they almost lost Miles. Miles is doing better, but Rachel and the old man refuse to let him talk to him. So he waits. He drinks. He stares into the darkness of the night when their safe house is dark and silent while his eyes find her, not sleeping far from him. He waits until he can make his brother keep his promise of telling him where his kid is.
He is tired of Rachel's cold eyes and her bullshit when another day is almost over. He walks outside. The sunlight of another meaningless day hurts his eyes. His head hurts like hell. He moves his hand over his face before he moves his fingers through his hair. He craves a drink, a fight…anything to keep his thoughts away from his kid. And her.
She went hunting a couple of hours ago. She had tried to avoid his eyes, but right before she had walked outside, her eyes had found his, like they always seem to do. And he knows her, he knows she's probably back. He finds her, outside, in the fading light of the day. The sun brushes her bare arms and touches her tanned skin. He knows she has heard him but she refuses to look up. He swallows. He waits. She finally looks up and her eyes pierce into his.
'What do you want Monroe..' Her voice breaks the silence. He can almost taste her anger and loathing.
He talks another step towards her. She is standing between him and the wall of their safe house behind her. There is a sharp warning in her eyes. He takes another step. And then she lashes out. But his hand wraps itself around her wrist. She's still fighting him with her eyes. She is standing impossibly close to him, he can almost feel the weight of her upper body against his.
The silence between them is heavy. And when he finally talks, and she is finally willing to listen to him, he surprises himself. And her.
'I'm sorry,' His voice sounds hoarse. His lips are close to her ear. He doesn't look away from her. He hates the way he feels. But he has to tell her. He fucking is sorry. Because out of the few people he has left in his miserable life, she is the one that hasn't looked away. She is the one that's strong as hell, never afraid of him, never taking his bullshit. She is the one that saved his life when the rest of the world wanted him dead.
It's everything that suddenly happens in her eyes that makes it impossible to stop. He can't. He takes another step closer to her and pushes her deeper into the shadows between the trees and the wall of their safe house. Her body connects with his chest and her back touches the wood of the wall of the safe house. And he is waiting for her knife against his skin, he is waiting for biting words filled with loathing he knows so well. But all there is left is her breathing mixing with his own and her eyes locked with his.
Her breath is warmth against his skin. Her scent is close. He closes the remaining distance between them with his mouth covering hers. His hands touch the smooth, soft skin under her tank and he soaks up the way she softly moans and eagerly demands more when she presses herself against him. Her hands are on their way to his shirt and the button of his pants. It's like fighting side by side with her, or fighting each other, there are no words needed, they just find each other.
His first thrust is filled with everything he can't say to her and be to her. It's fast and hard, and when it's over and he looks into her eyes, he knows that they both know, that nothing will ever be the same between them.