A/N: Um, so the end of school was really really bad and depressing for me. Which threw me off quite a bit. And then the season ended. Which also sucked. But like three more of my friends have gotten into it – it's just that we're in college and couldn't have gotten it ratings anyhow.

Oh and for reference – in my head Ella looks like Jenny from Doctor Who (David Tennant's wife.)

So sorry. But let's have fun with this. :)

I DO NOT OWN REVOLUTION, but I do own all OCs.

Charlie's stomach threatened to revolt as the wagon jerked her back and forth. Honestly, she would prefer to walk but the sun was too hot and being in the caravan meant that she couldn't escape into the small clutches of trees that would provide shade. Meeting Ella had been pretty uneventful, though the size of the caravan surprised her frankly. A few had come by there town every year when she lived up in Wisconsin and they were only a few wagons. They carried mostly metal or wooden goods. A few luxury items. Anything a small town wouldn't be able to reliably produce itself. But this one. There were fourteen wagons, at least six of which were filled with goods. And others that were filled to the brim with food and supplies.

Upon joining Ella had let her pick up a nicely scented soap as well as a few of the canned good that they had picked up from Martha. Charlie had gone through her items with the small blonde woman before they left. Pride had swelled in her chest as her pack had passed the minimum standards that the caravan enacted. And on seeing it, Charlie understood exactly why they had requirements. It looked as if they had been on the road for months; and it had definitely gained wagons and people. In the few minutes that she had observed them coming in before she met with Ella Charlie had seen at least a dozen children. Most of them appeared to belong to various families. A patchwork of people that looked like they also had nowhere to go. And Ella and her men would be in charge of keeping everyone safe and alive.

Charlie had ended up joining a one of the many closed wagons. She was sharing it with Ella, another "girl in trouble", and at least ten different guys' gear. The other girl had already had one kid and was expecting a second. Apparently she had been forced into marriage with a piece of shit who hit her. Her name was Jasmine – she went by Jazz – had done this so her sister wouldn't have to. Her sister had been in love with a different man who had significantly less power than Jazz's future husband. When Ella had come to town she had shot the man point blank after seeing him hit Peter, Jazz's son. Jazz's family hadn't taken her in so Ella made sure she came with them.

All in all, Charlie was one of five different pregnant women in a caravan of more than one hundred people. As of right now, everyone was going towards Springfield, after which Ella had offered Charlie a home in Cripple Creek, wherever that was. Apparently it was off any major highways and reasonably far in the mountains which helped keep people away. They just assumed that no one would be crazy to live out there. An opinion that Charlie easily shared, but seeing as her options had dried up about the time she decided to hop into bed with the great and terrible Bass Monroe, Charlie already accepted the offer. Upon talking to Jazz briefly they had agreed to try to get houses close to each other. A bond forged in fire is one of the strongest.

The wagon's steady pace would have been soothing over a smooth surface, but pot holes kept jarring Charlie and throwing her stomach around like a baseball. With a groan she fell over on top of one of the packs, losing her seated position. Jazz looked back at her from where she was sitting at the edge of the wagon and laughed. "Wagon getting to you?" Jazz' tone was playful, when Charlie looked at her she saw a smile dancing across the other woman's lips. Jazz and Charlie were about the same age even though Peter was three. Some people's lives just turned out differently. Putting on a pouty face Charlie nodded at Jazz, smiling when the other woman laughed.

The hormones must be messing with her, because generally Charlie didn't take to random people as well. Well, it could also be the hope starting to blossom within her. In the back of her head Charlie was hoping it was the baby though. She could feel a firmness growing deep within her abdomen but she wouldn't consider herself to be showing yet. You had to look for a few seconds before noticing. That being said, wearing belly shirts didn't help. But being home early in her pregnancy gave her enough food to put on a layer of fat that made her growing belly much less noticeable. Charlie held out hope that it would last at least to... Cripple Creek? What kind of name was that?

Charlie's attention was jerked back to Jazz as she started speaking. "We'll walk later in the evening, but it's way too hot right now. We're going through water quickly as it is. We'll probably need to camp for a few days to boil enough to refill our stores." She threw a sidelong glance at Charlie as she pulled herself over to sit nets to Jazz, both of their legs dangling over the back. "You'll be showing by then." Charlie threw her a skeptical look. "I don't think so. This baby can't show until we get past Springfield. I don't know who'll be there, but this can not get back to my mother until I want it to. I'll go back when I'm ready, but I want to have the upper hand when that happens." Jazz snorted. "We are literally hundred's of miles from your family. Chances of them finding you are pretty slim. I'm just happy that we're going to be off the road for a while. This baby has about four more months in me and at least three of the five previous have been in a wagon on the way to Ella's town." Charlie looked over at the other woman, nodding in sympathy. She had a feeling that the extreme changes to come over the next five and a half months were going to be intense.

"You know – I didn't start showing until I was almost six months with Peter. With this one I was showing at twelve weeks. Twelve. And last time I was in a house. Didn't really need to get around that well. Now it would be supremely helpful to have a larger range of movement." With that Jazz sighed looked out at the horses of the wagon following them. Every once in a while Jazz would lock eyes with the driver behind them and smile before reddening and looking away quickly. The man would just exhale laughingly before turning to the other huge man next to him. Apparently he was a widower from Cripple Creek. Lost his wife in a raid on a caravan a few years back. From the chatter over dinner Charlie gathered that he already had two kids, but they stayed with his sister when he had to go. Which means he hadn't seen his kids in four months. Wouldn't see them for another two. But this was the shortest caravan route and they couldn't ask the same guys over and over.

Charlie remembered Miles talking about a similar thing when he was a soldier. They would send men in "tours" so they had a break from fighting. The only real difference that Charlie could tell was that in Cripple Creek, they had to volunteer. At least once every five years.

The wagon jarred as it left the semi-smooth surface of the interstate they were traveling along. Charlie knew the drill. They would circle up and the guys that were set to do the second watch would lay down a little ways from camp to attempt to get a full night's rest. While that was being done a few of the men from first watch went out to hunt and basically everyone else in the camp built a fire and started cooking something to eat in huge pots that were in the supply wagon. Generally a stew of some type. Three of the five stock pots were used to boil water for people's canteens as well as what was lovingly referred to as the well. It actually was three large barrels, two of which were held just behind the driver's bench in their shared wagon. If there was any water left over it went to give baths – generally to the guards and the children but families could get away with it every once in a while. Apparently. Charlie technically hadn't bathed since they had left Martha's house but when they got to the campsite outside of Springfield everyone would get a bath.

They sighed as they slid from the wagon and everyone kicked off the ritual for the night. Charlie took a little solace in the fact that it would be more difficult for Jazz with Peter than it would be for her.

Bass ached. The man here had told him to extend the fights a bit more. Apparently he was beating guys too badly. He grimaced and took another pull from his bottle of whatever. Sixth day in a row that he had to go into the ring. At this point he was too sore and tired to find a woman. Or that's what he was telling himself. He was just too burned out for even the most casual of relationships. He had destroyed the lives of millions of people. He was the reason that they died in Philadelphia.

Angrily he capped the bottle he was swigging from. He should have stopped it from happening. Who had done it? Bass knew the Mathesons were in there and figured Tom had probably gotten in there somehow. But there is no way Tom would bomb Philadelphia because Tom wanted to take over the Monroe Republic. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Tom probably would have done a better job at that point. How did it all go so wrong? How did he go so far away from where he had been? They started with such great intentions. Or, Bass had started with pretty good intentions. To protect people who couldn't protect themselves in this fucked up world that was left after the blackout. And now that was all fucked to hell.

This pit always seemed to be the one that he spiraled down into after drinking. What he could have done to stop it? He had definitely gone off the rails after Miles. Bass stumbled across the small trailer that he had been given as "Jimmy King" for quarters while he was fighting, collapsing on the bed as blackness overcame him. The only positive note running through his head as he slid away into sleep was that he wouldn't have to fight for another three days. It would give his broken body time to heal, even if that didn't look like it would happen for his shattered psyche.

Charlie slid down to a sitting position on her bedroll. She and Peter, who was sitting on Jazz' bedroll, were tossing a ball back and forth to each other. Charlie was keeping the little boy distracted while Jazz washed some clothes in the nearby stream. Ella, Jazz, and she had settled close to their wagon, for the night. Being in the caravan like being in a huge family. Everyone worked together as a unit to ensure that everything went smoothly. Families were expected to help and provide some food, but overall Ella took care of everyone. That being said, any family not going on to Cripple Creek had to pay a pretty hefty fee to travel with them seeing as it was one of the only safe ways to get anywhere.

The late summer air was warm, ripe with the scents of the group of fires in the center of the circle. Children were wandering through the center of the wagons, the way to the stream being patrolled by a number of caravanners with bows and swords. From under the wagon next to her Charlie could see the feet of other men as the constantly patrolled. Quickly she made a mental note to walk around the outside a few times before going to bed. She tried to walk with everyone during the day but the pace was significantly faster than she was used to. When she was alone she tired easily so she would simply stop to rest whenever she needed it. That was no longer an option.

The smell of roasting potatoes wafted over to where Charlie and Peter were happily babbling back and forth to each other. He was really good at talking for a three year old. After not speaking to her for the first three days of having joined them he warmed up to Charlie nicely. According to Jazz he had really blossomed since they left his father. Looking over at the happy little boy who kept on giggling as Charlie overemphasized her movements she couldn't imagine him being any other way. His eyes shined, their light green color reminded Charlie of Danny's. Charlie didn't even want to imagine a man who could dull that bright light.

Charlie looked over at Ella as the exhausted looking woman collapsed down onto her own bedroll. "Long day?" Charlie had it relatively easy here. Cook, hunt, play with little kids. Ella nodded exhaustedly as she rubbed the back of her neck. "The guys have their schedule worked out for the next few days after we get into Springfield. And tonight we're having roasted potatoes and some kind of stew. It depends on whatever they can find." Charlie turned back to Peter to throw the ball back to the little boy. "I'd put diamonds on rabbit. When am I going to get to help with that? I've been hunting for years. Pretty damn good with a crossbow." Ella laughed. Charlie had been bugging her about this for days. "You can go out with the guys tomorrow. Honestly, when Martha said you were about fourteen weeks I assumed that you were going to start showing soon. But from the looks of it you are going to stay incognito for a while. I mean, not too much longer since you sixteen weeks, but a bit longer. Just make sure not to go too hard." Charlie beamed back at Ella. Finally a way to contribute that she enjoyed. It's not that she didn't like the whole cooking and cleaning up, it's just that neither of those options involved shooting things. Which was one of her main reasons for enjoying hunting.

Peter ran to join the other children playing duck, duck, goose as Jazz came back into the circle of wagons. Charlie couldn't judge her for being careful. Even as safe as they were now, they had lived in fear for years. Charlie stood, moving to hang a line between two of the wagons for the laundry. She helped Jazz hang her and Peter's clothes over the line. Charlie exhaled laughingly as she found a change of her own clothes in the basket. Jazz had taken them when she wasn't looking. Between the two of them they finished their task quickly. Charlie's turn to wash would be in a few days. With how few clothes they had and how dirty Peter inevitably got them they needed to be washed every few days to keep up with the little boy.

Charlie moved with Jazz and Ella over to where they were now serving the rabbit stew and potatoes. Tomorrow they would be in Springfield. And one short week later Charlie would be on her way to her new home.