18A/N- This story will include all the main characters and most of the supporting ones, but not all of them will be the exact same. Charlie is not a Matheson. She is the Daughter of Emma Bennet. She has never met Miles, Rachel, Ben, Danny, Nora, ext., at the beginning of this story. Changes to Miles' story line as well. I usually ship Charlie/Monroe and Charlie/Jason, but this story will have ABSOLUTELY NO romantic paring between Charlie and Monroe. It's going to be a long story, so strap yourselves in and enjoy.
A/N Edit-Oh my goodness an update! This chapter has been rewritten. Nothing major has changed, but I think it flows better. Life got in the way of this story, but my semester is almost over so expect regular updates starting this week! Thank you for all the reviews. They are the reason this story is being un-abandoned.
Thank you to my wonderful beta Boasamishipper!
It was a warmer day than usual in Jasper, Indiana. During October, the thermostat rarely went above sixty, but it hovered around sixty-seven on this Saturday afternoon. Usually Charlie would be wearing a sweater to take away the incoming chill, but today she was soaking in what she imagined to be the last nice day in one of her few dresses.
Charlie sat on a park bench, smiling at the children running by. The bench had a fresh coat of paint on it and was gleaming white. The children ranged in ages from six to twelve. The oldest kid was a boy she knew all too well. He was a trouble maker and he was currently chasing after a little blond angel with a muddy worm.
An odd noise suddenly filled her ears from above. It sounded like one of the boys in town swinging a plastic bat above his head, but it was much too loud to be that. It was a hundred times louder than the bat had ever been before, almost to the point of being painful.
Looking around Charlie noticed a large, black, metal object floating in the sky. It looked vaguely like one of the rusted cars which was forever parked five miles out-of-town. The flying car headed straight towards the only part of town with a large enough flat space for it to land, the town square.
She immediately took off running towards her small home in search for her mother. Emma was on the porch staring at this now descending object as well. Her eyes were filled with amazement, unlike Charlie's which were filled with fear.
Jasper had always been home for her. She was born here five years before the blackout and hardly ever left. Her house was an off white color with crackled blue shutters. Some of the shutters had been damaged in a storm several weeks ago and now hung limply along the window. Other than that, Charlie viewed her home as a beautiful, welcoming place. Today, however, she wondered if it could protect her from this mysterious object when it could not even hold up during a strong storm.
"Mom?" Charlie asked, scared and confused. She reached for her mother.
"It's alright, sweetheart," her mother said, quickly grabbing Charlie in a tight grasp.
"You need to get out of here, Charlie. You see the "M" painted on the side?" Emma gave Charlie no chance to respond and quickly continued. "That man in the helicopter is President Monroe. Nothing good will come from his visit. Run away. Take the short cut from the back of town to your aunt's house," Emma said grabbing Charlie's hands in a tighter than necessary grasp
Emma had not seen Monroe for many years, but she knew from his new reputation as president, towns were rarely left standing after he came to visit.
"That's fifty miles Mom. I've never gone alone," Charlie said back with a strained voice. Tears were soaking her cheeks. Her mind wandered to the weather again. She was wearing a light dress, it was hardly traveling attire.
"I need you to do this for me Charlie. Run and don't look back," Emma said with wet eyes.
Emma reluctantly let go of her and the tears fell off her chin.
"I love you," Charlie said, struggling to smile, and then she took off running for the back of town. The Millers property led to a back road that made it quick, but not easy, to get to her aunt's. It wasn't paved or marked in anyway, but it would have to do.
Emma wiped away her tears and started walking towards the center of the town where all the commotion was happening.
Monroe stood in the town square addressing everyone from a makeshift stage which was a small, elevated gazebo with a bronze statue of the town's founder in the center.
He said he was looking for General Miles Matheson. Most of the town residents knew him and mumbled that he hadn't been there in years.
"He's been missing from duty for three weeks. He is not in any trouble, I would just like to speak with him again. No harm will come to anyone in this town," Monroe said with an unconvincing smile.
Emma looked down at her feet. Her brown boots had a small hole in them that she had been meaning to fix. She sighed in relief: Monroe's visit had nothing to do with Charlie.
"He is not here Bass," Emma called out, causally. Monroe looked out to Emma and smiled quickly.
He beckoned her to come closer, which she did slowly. Monroe then gestured at another officer, then to the crowd, signaling the officer to round them up.
They started walking through the park, and soon passed the bench that Charlie had only moments ago been sitting at and enjoying the unusually warm day. It seemed ten degrees colder to Emma now.
"How have you been?" Monroe asked, seeming genuinely interested.
"Well. And you?" Emma replied back, with a less genuine smile. Monroe didn't seem to catch on to her false kindness, however.
"I've been better," he said honestly, letting a chuckle escape his lips. He reached up to his hair and combed it back with his steady hands. He stopped walking at a particularly beautiful part of the park where tulips had just started to bloom.
Emma grabbed her shoulders when a chill passed through her. She looked up at him again.
"You have power," she stated awkwardly, not knowing what else to say.
"Yeah. I do," Monroe said followed by a stiffened laugh.
Emma looked away quickly to the tulips. They were truly beautiful right now. Two more weeks and they would be dead in the ground again, but in this moment, they shined.
"So will you be staying then? Now that you know he's not here," she asked, eyes still on the tulips. She hoped he would be leaving soon. Once he was gone, Charlie could come back and life could go back to normal.
He moved to speak when a soldier interrupted them. Monroe frowned at his timing.
"What is it?" he asked sternly, breaking his gaze from Emma.
"Sir. We found someone," the young militia man replied. He couldn't have been any older than Charlie and seemed too small for his uniform. The green sleeves went past his knuckles, and his pants were bunched up at the tops of his muddy black shoes.
"Miles?" he asked quickly, with a smile returning to his face. His eyes gleamed at the possibility of having his friend back.
"No sir," the soldier reluctantly replied.
Monroe's smile dropped again, turning into a disappointed frown.
He gave the soldier a confused look, wondering who they could have found and then turned back to Emma.
"Pardon me, Emma," Monroe said to her with a quick head bow and walked away with the soldier. She tried to reach out and stop him but another soldier grabbed her in a none-too-gentle grip and brought her to the old court-house with all the other townsfolk.
Monroe walked inside what looked to be a school building and followed his men down a corridor until he reached a small room with a young blond women being held closely by two of his men.
"She was caught trying to escape the town, sir," one of them said.
Monroe looked at the shaking girl. She was not dressed for being on the run. She had on a white dress with small pink flowers all over it. She was not struggling, but looked in pain from the tight grips of his soldier's hands on her upper arms.
"Do you know where Miles is?" Monroe asked, slowly looking over the girl fully.
Charlie snapped her head up.
"Who?" she asked, never having heard the name before.
"Miles Matheson. General of the Monroe Militia. He grew up here along with me. Brown hair and eyes, in his forties, ringing any bells?" he asked in a humorless way.
Charlie thought about it for a moment and then responded, "I've never met him. And if I did I wouldn't hide him. I promise. My name is Charlotte. The only place I've ever been other than here is fifty miles up the road to my aunt's house. I swear I don't know anything," she pleaded.
He looked her up and down seemly sizing her up.
"Then why did you run?" he asked, not believing her.
"There was a flying metal thing above us, I was scared," she shouted. It seemed a logical enough lie to her.
Monroe stepped back and looked her over again for a long minute.
"Can I go now?" she asked looking him in the eyes. Her mother wanted her to run. Now all she wanted to do was run back to her mother.
"One moment Charlotte. Sergeant?" he said while still looking at her.
"Yes sir?" an attractive man in the back replied.
"Go find someone to confirm her story," he commanded.
"Yes sir," the Sergeant replied and left the room in a hurry.
Charlie stood there quietly. The grips on her arms were looser now, although still firmly holding on.
Monroe's eyes did not leave her. He squinted a few times trying to figure out why she looked so familiar. The room was quiet and awkward. Usually it was used as the town's second through fourth grade classroom and was filled with a rambunctious group of children, who seemed to never quiet down. Now, it was as silent as a church during a funeral. Charlie could not bring herself to hold Monroe's gaze any longer and looked away. Suddenly another young girl walked into the room with the good-looking sergeant trailing behind her.
"Charlie what happened? Your Mom is freaking out," the tiny brunette said anxiously.
"It's fine, Sarah. I'm fine," Charlie assured. Sarah looked up at the men holding her and then back to her.
"What did you do?" she asked almost whispering, but loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.
Charlie scoffed and then stared at her for a long second with wide eyes.
"Why does everyone always automatically think it's my fault? They grabbed me," she said with attitude pulling at her confined arms to demonstrate she was the victim here.
"Has Charlotte been acting suspicious lately?" Monroe asked Sarah, breaking into the girl's chatter. She looked at him with confusion, not understanding why the president of the republic had any interest in a girl like Charlie.
"'Suspicious'? Really? I am not hiding that general!" Charlie snapped strongly, before Sarah could respond, regaining her usual trouble-seeking demeanor.
"What?" Sarah asked loudly feeling confused by this entire interaction.
"Your friend was running from town. Do you know why?" Monroe asked politely.
"Her mom, Emma, said she was only going to her aunt's," Sarah replied with a smile and a nod, not realizing Emma's and Charlie's stories would not line up. Charlie took in a sharp breath and looked down quickly.
Monroe tensed up hearing Emma's name, but continued.
"That's funny," Monroe said, casually smiling and pacing back and forth, "because Charlotte said she ran because she was afraid of my helicopter."
Sarah looked up at Charlie, quickly realizing her mistake. The two exchanged awkward glances.
"I mean…," Sarah started.
"Why did Emma tell you to run?" Monroe asked Charlie smoothly, momentarily forgetting Sarah.
"I don't know," Charlie answered honestly. Monroe grabbed Sarah and put his gun up to her head.
"I'll put a bullet in her head, believe me. Why did Emma tell you to run from me? Did she want to protect Miles? Is this all about Miles?" Monroe yelled the last question, his anger was rising quickly. He was clearly hurt by the possibility of Emma's betrayal.
"Sarah! No, please stop!" Charlie yelled back. The soldiers tightened their grasps as she tried to get to her friend.
"WHY?" he yelled again.
"I don't know I swear. She said the helicopter had you in it and that I should run. I swear I don't know that general. I was just doing what she said," Charlie was now crying not bothering to hold back her tears.
"Go get Emma!" he yelled at his one of his men, pushing Sarah down. She crawled to the corner of the room, crying loudly.
Charlie was shaking. She had never been so scared in her life, not even when she fell off her favorite swing in the park and broke her arm in three places. Charlie thought she was going to die.
Emma rushed in then. She immediately saw her daughter and tried to run over to her. Monroe reached Emma first and pulled her back to face him, grabbing her arms for the second time today. This time was different.
"I'm having a bad month Emma. You see, first my best friend left me and joined the rebellion. Then I found out he stole three out of the four power sources I had and gave them to the rebels to fight me. And now your daughter is running away from me on your orders. You get that I'm not in the best place right now," he had an insane look in his eyes. His gun was casually waving around Emma's face and around the room. Soldiers eyed each other at the display.
"Bass, please...," Emma started, trying to think of how to explain this while keeping her head on top of her shoulders.
"Bass?" Charlie questioned, breaking up their intimate moment, and snapping her head up at the recognition to this name. She knew the president's name was Sebastian Monroe, but she had never thought of him as "Bass" before.
"Bass", the name her mother had told her all those years ago. She looked between the two of them, hurt and confused.
Emma looked back realizing her daughter's sudden understanding of the situation. Crying and shaking her head, Emma went to speak.
"I'm sorry Charlie. I never wanted you to know," Monroe now looked between the two of them feeling like he was left out of some kind of inside joke.
"What is it Emma? Tell me," Monroe commanded, softer now, grabbing on to Emma's face. His gun was thankfully pointed down again, making the whole room feel safer. It was still being held in his shaking hand though, his finger, still positioned over the trigger.
"Charlotte is your daughter," she whispered out. Men around the room looked at each other, wondering if they heard right.
Emma continued, "I found out after you left. My parents wouldn't let me tell you. I'm sorry."
Monroe now had the same hurt look on his face as Charlie did. They both looked at each other for a moment.
"You're lying!" Charlie yelled, not believing her mother's confession.
The men holding her let go, completely unsure whether they wanted to risk hurting Monroe's own daughter. Monroe's eyes locked on to hers.
She suddenly ran out of the room and into the hallway. Monroe followed after her, leaving Emma and the rest of his men. He grabbed on to her arms was about to pull her back to the class when he and Charlie were suddenly propelled forward by an unknown force, causing him to momentarily pass out.
He regained consciousness quickly, and saw Charlotte huddled under him with blood running down her head. She was clearly hurt and remained unconscious.
He stood up and saw the room, that he only moments before had been inside, was now practically gone. He looked inside at the remnants and saw there were no survivors. More of his men came rushing for him.
"It was the rebels, sir. They shot what looked to be a rocket launcher. We couldn't catch them before they drove off. They seemed to have a power source. Sir, I personally saw Miles with them," a scared soldier said.
Monroe looked down at his new-found daughter for a moment and then reached down and picked her up carefully.
"What are you waiting for? Get everyone in the helicopter," Monroe scolded.
"The pilot was shot during the altercation, sir. We have no other means of following them," Monroe laughed then, like a true mad men, and looked down at the young girl, sleeping in his arms.
"We better start walking then," he said, with a sarcastic smile, walking towards the front entrance of the school. He really was having a bad month.
A/N 2- Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed. Either way, please leave me a review. They're like crack to me and make me update twice as fast. Next chapter should be up by the weekend. Jason should be showing up then. ;)