Word count; 2511

Notes at the bottom

Insanity. That's what it was, pure insanity.

She cupped her hands to scoop up some of the water from the stream and shivered when it came into contact with her skin. It didn't do anything to cool down the fire within so she repeated the movement again and once more just to be sure, it wasn't working though.

Just moments before she had awoken from a dream, a dream so disturbing, so vivid it had startled her awake and sent her on a dead run for the nearest form of cooling.

As it dawned on her that the water wasn't doing what she'd hoped it'd do she dropped backwards from her crouching position and landed on her back. Her hands, still wet with water, resting on her face, covering the night sky from her vision. The wind audible through the trees and luckily cooling down her heated flesh, even if it was just slightly.

Closing her eyes she could still feel his hands on her, calloused fingers gripping her hips as she was being pulled closer to his hard and unforgiving body.

Blue eyes flew open and she sat back up 'This is insane... This is insane' she kept repeating that same mantra, over and over again. It was insanity, not to mention, impossible. It was impossible for her to remember because she'd never felt his hands on her, not in that particular way, at least.

"Charlie?" Charlie jumped to her feet, both startled and pissed at herself for not hearing the person approach. "What the hell are you doing out here by yourself?"

Connor. She could remember feeling his hands on her body. She could remember how he'd almost torn the clothes from her body, how he'd eagerly laid under her as she had ridden him to completion in New Vegas. She also remembered their conversation afterwards and the embarrassing interruption from his father.

Charlie sighed and rolled her eyes at the man before her "What's a girl gotta do to get a little damn privacy around here?" She brushed her hair from her face, the front locks wet from her earlier attempts to cool herself down. "I just wanted to wash up and have a moment to myself, besides, aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

Brown eyes followed her as she strode towards him "I woke up and saw you weren't there, one of your new goons said you'd sped out of camp like your ass was on fire. I'm paraphrasing."

His voice was cocky, his stance was self-assured and there was an amused look on his face.

Charlie ignored his words and walked past him, startling when she felt his hand wrap around her arm, pulling her back towards him. "Hey, why the hurry?" Connor's voice was soft opposed to the hard grip he had on her arm. "Figured we could have a little fun, since you're awake. Celebrate us getting out of New Vegas without too much damage.

She rolled her eyes once more but didn't stop him from pulling her in even closer, didn't stop him as he placed his hands on her hips while his mouth descended on hers.

Hands that were gentler than the hands in her dreams had been. Slightly smaller and less sure of themselves. Hands that gripped her hips not quite right as his lips moved over hers.

But maybe this was what she needed to get that dream out of her head so she closed her eyes and opened her lips to allow his tongue into her mouth. She felt his hands slip to the small of her back and pull her in closer to his body.

Connor let out a small moan as he deepened his kiss but Charlie was left oddly unsatisfied. Unlike the first time she found that it was even harder to stay in the moment, even with her eyes open.

In New Vegas, when Connor and she had sex, she had kept her eyes open the entire time. Luckily the man had made no comment towards that whatsoever, though she didn't know if that was because he didn't care or because he didn't notice. She had kept her eyes open because the moment she closed them it hadn't been dark brown, nearly black curls that her hands were gripping, when she allowed her eyes to slip closed it weren't brown eyes looking down at her and with her eyes open she had been able to just feel, to just be in the moment.

But now, even with her eyes open, she couldn't. Couldn't just feel, couldn't enjoy him, couldn't keep the dreams away. She broke off the kiss and pushed him away, creating a safe distance between their bodies. His breath labored and fast, hers slow and steady.

"We're not doing this again, Connor. New Vegas was a one time thing." She noticed his smile fall and his hands reach out for her. Taking a step back and shaking her head, she said "No, I mean it. That was just an itch, and in hindsight... I should have found a stranger to scratch it with."

"That's too bad." His reply surprised her. It sounded accepting, no trace of anger or hurt in them and her eyes shot up to him as he chuckled. "What, not expecting that, were you. You thought I'd be heartbroken?" Another chuckle "No offence, Charlie. It was great and all and I'm disappointed that it's not going to happen again but it's not gonna kill me. Plenty of fish, and all that."

He walked past her into the direction of their camp. "Well, are you just gonna stand there or are you going to come with me. You stay out here to long and there'll be 6 men invading your privacy, I guarantee it."

Charlie didn't know whether to be glad or insulted that he took it so good. Sure, she had told him that they weren't going to go on with what had happened in New Vegas but it hurt her feminine pride that he'd been so aloof about it. Though the alternative would have been a lot worse so she decided to be happy about how things turned out with Connor. She smiled and followed him back to the camp, careful not to trip over any sticks, stones or roots sticking out of the ground.

The camp was silent. Everyone asleep aside from Connor, her and the man on watch. One of Duncan's men, or hers, now. His name was Pete, he was a towering 6ft5 and had a thick, black beard. Unlike his looks suggested he was actually a very kind man and she had her doubts about whether or not he would be good against a fight against the patriots. On one hand he was one of Duncan's, and Duncan didn't strike her as the type of person who would put up with a weakling but on the other, the man was gentle, soft-spoken en she had taken an immediate liking to him.

The fire was still burning bright and she sat down near Pete to enjoy the warmth. Charlie noticed that Connor had retreated to his sleeping bag and was moments away from falling asleep.

On one side of the fire lay the men Duncan had provided. Head towards the fire and feet towards any danger from the outside world. On the other side of the fire was her own sleeping bag. Right in between Connor's and his. Ex-dictator slash president slash General... Sebastian Monroe.

Sebastian Monroe, the man who ran the Monroe republic, the man who killed hundreds, if not thousands of people. The man who was partly responsible for the death of her father, her brother, Maggie, Nora and dozens of other people she had met along the way.

Partly. She had indeed realized that. For the longest time she had held him solely responsible for everything. When her pain and her hate had been raw and new he had been her scapegoat. Somewhere along the way though her hate had lessened. The pain of the losses were there but she had come to realize that it wasn't all on his shoulders.

They had been at war. And yes, it had been against his army but he had ordered Tom Neville to take her father to Philly, alive. Unforeseen actions by bystanders and even Danny had escalated an already volatile situation which had lead to her fathers death and Danny's capture. That had been on Tom Neville. Not on Monroe, though it had taken her a while to be able to see that.

Danny's death had been a casualty of war. Casualty... What a horrendous word for it. Casual.

Whilst hunting for Monroe she had met a lot of people. People who hated him, people who feared him, people who adored ad respected him, though, at that time she couldn't fathom why. But the meeting that had helped her get over her anger, past her hate was when she had met Emily.

Emily was a tiny brunette of about 40 years old who had been working in a bar. Her family had been murdered. Her husband, her two brothers, all had been killed because they had been rebels. Charlie at the time had made a comment on how Monroe was a monster who deserved to burn in hell for all eternity.

The woman and Charlie had fallen into conversation about the Militia and about the Monroe republic. Charlie was surprised to find out that in the beginning the Republic hadn't been all that bad. There had been safety, security, a legal system. Only after a wile did it get to be bad. After the first rebels to be exact. More surprising still was Charlie when she found out that one particular member of the Militia killed her family. General Miles Matheson, the Butcher of Baltimore.

Suddenly she was glad she hadn't offered her full name to the woman as Emily recounted the day her family had been killed. Executed by a squadron of militia, ordered by General Matheson. She listened to the entire story and asked Emily how much she hated Miles Matheson.

"I don't" The answer had been steady and calm. "I did, for a long time but after a while it just... I needed to move on. It was war, my husband, brothers had chosen to fight the republic. They didn't need to, I didn't force them, no one did. They did it because they believed it was the best course for them. In war there are casualties but there isn't just one person responsible for it."

Emily smiled sadly "War happens because a lot of men decide to fight, not just one. Monroe and Matheson made the republic as they saw fit and some people didn't agree. Was all the bloodshed too much? Probably. But my family died because they decided to fight, they decided to rebel and I think that after a while, I was more angry with them than I was with the Militia. We knew the Militia responded to rebels with violence, they knew that if they got caught it would mean their deaths and they still joined the rebels"

Days went by that when she thought of Miles she felt anger, hate even, bubble up inside but when that subsided and cold rationality and Emily's words set in, it had been war. That she had murdered Militia men as well, men who also, most likely had family, wives, sisters, mothers and fathers and she had killed them because that's what she had to do. She did it to help her cause, something she felt was right.

It was weird to think it and on one hand she didn't know if her train of thought went that way because deep down she knew it was the truth or because she just wanted it to be.

So when she was fighting side by side with Monroe. When she was eating, sleeping in his presence it started to dawn on her. Yes, he had done things that were unforgettable but only because at the time he had thought it was the right course. Miles, reluctantly, had told her how the Republic got started and she'd been surprised that it had been mostly him that wanted it.

He had told her about the first few months after the black out, about keeping Connor from Monroe and even told her about Shelly, the baby, the bombing on his birthday. Through Rachel she had found out what had happened to Monroe's family and slowly she started to form a picture. And it wasn't that of an evil man, it was of a broken one.

By no means had she forgiven Monroe for all his crimes. He was still responsible for his actions but the hate had slowly ebbed away.

What she didn't know was how she got from not hating him anymore to... Other things. The hate hadn't turned into love, hadn't even turned into liking the man but there was an understanding. A respect. She no longer wanted to kill him, sure, she felt like punching him in the face every now and then, even fantasized about putting an arrow in a leg, an arm. But most of the time she found herself just wanting to rip his clothes off and ... She shook her head, that's not a train of thought she was going to allow herself to follow

Maybe it was because somehow he always managed to save her. In the tower with the coil gun. In that bar... That night was a bit hazy, her mind not able to recount it correctly due to the drugs. What she did remember vividly was doors slamming open, a lock blowing out of it's hinges and him. Standing there, murder in his eyes as the situation dawned on him. She remembered not knowing whether to be glad or fear for her live but when he'd pulled his swords and started cutting down men it became appearant it was the former of the two.

After that it had all been a haze. She thought she remembered his arms around her. His voice calling out her name. She did, however, remember that when she woke up it was him watching over her. Him offering her water and food, even after she'd lunged for a knife. He'd cut down patriots when Rachel, Miles and she had been cornered, the smart-assed "I'm Batman" had made her smile and the relief she had felt had been enormous, as it had been when he'd come back for her in the school.

Somehow he just always knew to show up when she needed him the most. The only other people she knew had done that were her family.

But knowing he would be there for her didn't justify the dreams. The nights where she would wake up, hot, sweaty and wet.

Sebastian Monroe, the man who'd ruled a Republic, the man who showed her she could count on him. The man who, in her dreams, gripped her hips just right.

Author's notes.

(*) Added 06-04-2014. This fic follows the show very loosely. I do take some conversations directly from the show, those chapters are intro'd with a disclaimer. (*)

So, this is my first foray into Revolution Fanfiction. I used to write for Supernatural but my inspiration dried up. Haven't been writing for quite some time but Bass and Charlie inspired me to pick ip up, once more.

Title is shamelessly stolen from a Celine Dion song, it seemed appropriate.

It's rated T for the moment but anyone familiar with my Supernatural fiction (available at the sinful archives, under the name AcklesAddict) knows I have an afinity for writing explicit smut. This one, however, developed a plot before I could even get to said smut.

Multi-chapter, though I have no idea how much I'll flesh it out.

Please forgive me if the punctuation is a bit off or if other small mistakes crept in there, I proof-read it myself, throw it through a spell checker and hope for the best. I'm currently un-beta'd since all beta's listed for Revolution preferred not to beta stories with explicit sex. If you read the first chapter and are interested in being my Beta, please contact me, I welcome all help, both spelling-wise and story wise.

Revieuws and comments, especcialy constructive critisism is very much appreciated!

Thank you all for taking the time to read the story. I will also post it on , just incase I get kicked off here for being to explicit. Though I have read some stories on here that are of the same level of smut as my stories usually are.

Love, Marisa