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This piece is the second piece for the same prompt ( see author's note). The first piece is called 'Brothers in the night' and focuses on both Bass and Miles and what they are going through in this night when their focus is on Charlie and their worries for her. Bass is there for Miles when he breaks down. This second piece is more from that story, and focuses on how Connor tries to be there for Charlie. Miles and Bass will also be part of this story of Monroe's and Matheson's looking out for the other.
Solace in the night
He finds her alone in a dark room. A blanket in his hand. She is curled up on a couch. Her back wrapped in her leather jacket towards him. The night is heavy and silent outside although there is a sadness pressing heavy in the room. Her sadness. Her being lost that reaches Connor from the doorway. Austin is behind them.
Her eyes and the hollow look inside of them are pressing heavy on all of them. He sees how it reaches Miles, he sees how it reaches his dad. It presses heavy on all their shoulders and within their hearts. They all might have their differences but there is one woman that pulls them all together to a place of worry and care for her.
Connor had watched how Miles had literally dragged her with him when they met again in an alley in the city after that city had turned into chaos. He had waited with his dad in that alley for what felt like forever when they had finally heard and seen Miles with Charlie. Both of theme eager to get the hell out of the city.
His dad had asked what took them so long. But he had been only able to look at her. Charlie. Pale, hollow, phased out, blood flowing from her nose. Her tank soaked with it. He had felt stunned while he could only look at her.
And then he had known as he had felt the realisation in his heart and in the tension of the muscles of his face. Her tank was soaked with his' blood. Jason's blood. He could still here his dad say that they would kill the Neville guy when he would cause trouble. He could hear Miles say the same before they left to see Blanchard and he had been alone with both Jason and Charlie.
But Miles had not killed the guy. His dad hadn't. Charlie had to.
And Connor had known, known right there in an alley in Austin, that they had all lost a piece of Charlie that would never come back to them. He had never seen her like this, he had never watched his dad looking at her, or at someone for that matter, as he had looked at her.
His dad had lead the way, out of Austin. Connor had closed the ranks, just behind Charlie and Miles. Charlie who had only moved because Miles was still dragging her along.
They had walked out of the city. Mile after mile, making it back to the wagon they left out there. She had been quiet. Hollow. They had spent mile after mile, him, his dad and Miles with sharing looks every now and them, looking at her. And Connor had wished for some of the stubborn discussion between her and Miles. Or her smart mouth. Or her tracking in the landscape to get them through the Texan landscape. Anything that was her.
She had spaced out, left them all. At the end of the day they had to stop. His dad had shared one look with Miles, telling him they could not move on, not when Charlie looked like she would fall through her knees to never get up.
They had found a house in the cover of the trees, far away from the road. Miles had not let Charlie out of his sight. She had not eaten anything. Her face still stained with the dried blood, the blood Jason had brought out of her.
Miles had sat before her, feeling powerlessness for not being able to reach her. Finally she had spoken, her voice broken and low. The only words she had spoken this night.
'He...he gave me no choice, he kept attacking me.' Every one of her words had been filled with aching, with the blood now on her tank.
Her voice had a tremble in it, hollow tears threatened the blue in her eyes he could catch in the light of the moon.
Connor felt broken for her. Heartbroken. And enraged at the same time, rage they all felt, for what she had to do. For what his dad and Miles had wanted to spare her of, for not being there. He could already feel it in the room, he could already read in their eyes and shoulders when they were standing close to her.
She had drank something after her dad gave her his flask and Miles moved some hair away from her face so she could put her lips to the flask. He watched how Miles crumbled when she flinched a bit at the sudden contact. Connor had found a cloth and moistened it with some water of the flask so Miles could remove the blood from her face. Connor moved through her pack and found another tank, the fabric soft and subtle in his hand.
Miles hands were large and gentle when he removed the blood, leaving red stains on her face as a reminder of what she had to do.
She did not allow them to change her tank. Connor had crouched down before her. Asking her softly to let them help her through this. She had not looked at him. Or at his dad. Or at Miles.
She had finally gotten up from the chair Miles had lead her too and had moved to the room in the back of the house. She had not said a word as she had opened the door. She had not spoken as she had curled up on the couch in the room and had not spoken since.
Connor had sat down next to his dad. Miles had moved against the wall of the room Charlie disappeared into. His dad had second watch. Weapons close, his eyes on Miles. That had been the point where Connor could not take it anymore and he had walked into the room. Grabbing a blanket with him.
He looks at her. Alone, so alone. He slowly walks into the room where Charlie is curled up on the couch now. His boots softly on the wooden floor. Connor watches her in the light of the moon. He can see the first hints of the deep red marks on her neck, a last reminder of Jason's hands around her neck. Images that are making him nauseous.
Charlie does not look up when he walks slowly towards her, the heavy footsteps of his boots on the wooden floor reaching her like ghosts in the room. She has stopped crying a while ago. Too tired and too damaged to cry them. She knows Miles is close. She knows Bass is close. She also knows Jason isn't. And she knows Connor is here, now. With her.
Charlie heard him, knew it was him, knew it was Connor in the room with her. Knows Miles has tried to make her drink, she is aware of Bass' eyes on her. Watching him, and Miles and Connor trying to reach her from so far away from the moment they all had to get out of Austin. But she could not reach them, the never ending grey around her. She did not wanted to move out of her tank, she did not want to let go of the last part of Jason against her skin, the part that flowed on to her when she held him until she could not hold on to him and she had dragged herself of the floor of the abandoned library.
The end of the day and the endless grey dark night have lead her here. She had found the couch and had curled up her knees into foetal position and had just stared at the time moving past her, here in this dark stuffy room somewhere outside Austin.
Connor crouches down in front of her. Her eyes are open, the evidence of tears are on her cheeks.
'Charlie...' his voice sounds low in the darkness of the room , 'I am putting this blanket over your now, okay?' He makes sure his movements are slow, not wanting to scare her or overwhelm her.
His heart breaks again for her not responding, Charlie always responds. She always gives you hell or a glare or a wide grin or she will tell you exactly what she thinks. But not tonight. Tonight she is so far away that Connor has to swallow as he moves closer to her.
He is placing the blanket around her shoulders, adjusting it so it covers her whole body up to her feet. His fingers adjusting the blanket around her. She does not look at him. She is silent. And far away.
Charlie feels the heaviness of a blanket around her. She can take in his scent, Connor's scent as she feels the shadows of his body moving close to her. She feels so far away from him and everything out there but somehow Connor reminds her there is something human other than herself in this room.
Her hair is sticking against her temples from sweat and tears. And she looks so damn small next to him. He stays crouched down in front of her face. Connor watches her small hands. He watches her staring past him. He watches the bracelets with small stones on her left wrist, he watches his father's brand on her other. Her cheeks pale with stains of red blood and tears.
He moves slowly, watching her. He gently moves one of his' hands around her hands. His larher hand cupping her cold hands and fingers.
'I am here..' He slowly brushes her hand with his thumb. 'We are all here Charlie. Miles. My dad.'
Charlie hears his voice. His words are hollow as nothing is able to reach her But somehow his low voice and warmth shines through, just a bit. Reminding him she is not hollow. That he is here for now. That Miles is. That Bass is. There is no false sentiment. There is just honest care in Connor's words.
She expects Connor to go away again and to leave her with her grey endless guilt and shame and grieve. But he doesn't.
Connor sits down slowly, with his back against the couch. Her body behind him, her hands on the couch close to his shoulder. He turns so he can look at her. He adjusts the blanket. He moves his arm around her shoulder. Brushes her cheek slowly. He feels the need to place a kiss on her cheek. To hold her against him. But this is not about what he needs or wants. This is about her.
So he sits with her. In the dark of the room and the night. He looks at Miles who is standing in the doorway. He nods towards him. Telling him he will take care of Charlie. He hears Miles' boots in the other room before he hears him walk outside. His dad following him.
He stays where he is. Sitting with his back against the couch, next to her. Trying to give her some solace that was left in him. Under layers of being alone too, of being left alone, of being hurt and being hardened with what life had thrown in his face. Of being forged into the man his mom raised and the man Nunez forged.
Connor knows he could be a cocky dick and he had been one to her. Asking about her and sixpack. But even through his ego and layers shielding his heart, he knows, he knows how much Charlie is in trouble, how much they are all in danger of her slipping away now. So he sits with her, listens to her breathing as he stares into the room with her. Giving her something, anything, anything that would get her through this night.
Charlie feels Connor close. His wide shoulders in front of her, next to her on the ground, his back against the couch. His shadow in the room shielding her from everything out there, just for a while. So she lays there. Curled up on the couch, staring into the room, but feeling a little less alone now Connor is here.
Author's Note: thank you so much for reading. These two pieces ( for the Armada prompt #41, No one was stupid enough to ask about the marks around her throat), Brothers in the night and Solace in the night were two sides of one story. And while Bass took care of Miles outside this room here in this piece, Connor took care of Charlie. Monroe's and Matheson's looking out for the other. Loved writing this! Love from Love