A/N: Hi everyone, I rewatched Revolution during lockdown and finally put my time to good use coming up with my own closure, particularly with the whole Charloe thing. I will be avoiding all talk of nano and will only do brief mentions of the Patriots here and there.

- BASS -

Monroe was asleep in the shack he called home these days. It was definitely a step down from his humble residence in Independence Hall in Philly, but then again his entire predicament was a step down. The one upside to not being "The General" anymore was that his sleep these days wasn't as troubled as it once had been. He hadn't stopped to dwell on why that may be, but absolution from the Mathesons sure did help a great deal.

He came to with a start and scrambled for cover as his flimsy door came off ita hinges and thumped on the floor, the old wood shuttering in a million pieces. His eyes hadn't adjusted to the bright morning light yet and he could only make out a man's silhouette. He was eerily walking towards him covering the small distance between them in two large strides. Cover was not an option; his exit was blocked by the intruder. So fight it was. He reached for his sword but the booted foot of the trespasser kicked it away, out of his reach.

'Shit...' He thought.

But by then it was too late. A tight grip closed around his neck and lifted him on his feet. He blinked to focus. But when the man's face was inches from his he realised.

"Miles? What the fuck?" He struggled to get the words out. He wasn't getting any air. Miles really was choking him. He searched his face for a reason, and he didn't have to look far. Red, hot rage was written all over his best friend's face.

"How could you, you son of a bitch?" Miles spat the words out and Monroe saw beyond his fury there was disgust. "You fucked Charlie."

Bass' face hardened and he braced himself. Sure enough Miles didn't disappoint him, his fist coming down on Monroe's face like a ton of bricks. He closed his eyes and expected more blows to follow, but someone yanked Miles away.

Monroe slid to the floor, gasping for air. Opening his eyes to assess the situation he saw with relief that it was Charlie that pulled Miles away. He half-feared that it would have been Rachel and he'd expect her to only do it so she'd get a chance to have a go at him too.

"The fuck is this, Miles? Like I'm some damsel in distress and you're defending my honor?"

"Someone's got to Charlie. 'Cause you sure ain't doing it for yourself."

"Jesus, Miles. Tone it down." Monroe was on his feet. Shaken, but well enough to assert his cool air.

"Shut up, Monroe. No one asked you." Charlie cut him off. He didn't detect any of the usual sarcasm in her tone.

Bass put his arms up in resignation and said nothing. He knew not to cross either of them and he'd clearly done enough of that already.

"No, let's hear him out. I sure as hell wanna know what happened." Miles was still full of rage and barely keeping it together.

Monroe didn't speak; he just eyed Charlie waiting for a sign of how she wanted him to proceed.

Miles caught it and somehow it infuriated him even more. "Hey, don't look at her when I talk to you. You're squaring up with me now."

"Leave it alone, Miles. I mean it." Charlie said again, her voice rising to meet her uncle's tone.

"What is it that you wanna hear, Miles?" Bass cut her off. "That I'm gonna make it right? That I'm gonna marry her? Is that what you want? Or is it your worst nightmare?"

"You know I'm right here, right?" Was all Charlie managed to get in before Miles interrupted.

"Marry her? So you can properly ruin her life? What future would she have with you? You can't go two steps without someone wanting to put a bullet in your brain. And I don't blame them."

"And who's gonna protect her? You? You can't get your head out of her mom's ass for more than two seconds."

Monroe would have said more if Charlie hadn't fired her shotgun in the air. "Shut up. Both of you. Talking like I'm some kind of idiot who can't decide about my own life. I could protect myself long before either of you decided you wanted anything to do with me."

Monroe, ever the cynic, assumed she'd have slammed the door if Miles hadn't taken care of that already.