Chapter Text
It had all been a lie.
Miles had never left the Militia. He'd never left Monroe. He'd only been play acting to try and draw his brother out. He'd never stopped being General Matheson.
Nora and Aaron were...she didn't know where they were. They'd been drug off somewhere else. She'd been hauled up the stairs of Independence Hall, kicking and screaming, and had been deposited into a richly appointed room with all the windows nailed shut. She'd hammered on the closed door, screaming for Miles to get his ass in there and explain himself, until her fists had started to bleed.
In the end, she'd curled up onto the bed, still clothed, and cried herself to sleep.
~***~
The sound of a key being turned in the lock woke her. She scrambled off the bed, keeping the heavy piece of furniture between her and the door. It was still dark outside. A guard came in first, armed and business like. He told her to stand next to the wall. Miles had removed her knives before ordering her to be taken away, so she had no way to fight back. She stood by the wall and watched as a trio of young soldiers came in, each carrying two large buckets of steaming water which they poured into the large tub in one corner of the room.
Captain Baker came in as the boys left. He laid a Militia uniform onto the bed, setting a pair of highly polished boots next to it. "General Matheson wants you cleaned and dressed for breakfast in an hour. I am to tell you that you either do so on your own, or I am to let the guards...assist you with it." He met her gaze with frank, open eyes. "Charlotte, don't make me send them in here with you. Do as your told. I'll be back for you in an hour."
He left her, the door to her room shutting and the lock turning. She looked at the uniform, crisply pressed and the boots practically glowing. Either do as she was told or let the Militia guards strip her down by force and do who knew what while they 'helped' her. She scowled as she stripped out of her clothes. When Baker came back she was clean, dressed and had her hair tightly braided. He looked relieved.
He escorted her downstairs and into a room with windows that let in the first bit of light from the dawn. Miles and Monroe were there. Monroe was seated at a table with a plate of food he only halfway paid attention to as he skimmed over a sheaf of papers. Miles was, unsurprisingly, fixing himself a drink. He looked up as Baker brought her in. She saw him take a quick appraisal of her and give Baker an approving nod. Her escort moved to take a seat at the table. A staff member placed a plate of food in front of him.
"Prompt and on time. That's a good start. Have a seat, Charlie." She didn't move. He wanted her to sit at the same table with Monroe?
She didn't see him move. Without warning Miles was next to her, a cruel hand gripping her braid and pulling tight. She gave a gasp of surprise and pain, her hands snapping back to try and pull his off. He jerked her braid, his breath hot on the side of her face.
"Play time is over, Charlotte!" His voice was a menacing hiss. "You're going to start doing as I tell you! Sit!" He let her go with another yank of her braid that moved her towards the table.
Monroe never looked up as she took her seat or as her breakfast was set down before her. When she just stared at her plate, he spoke without moving his eyes . "Eat up, Charlotte. The food at the academy is unlikely to be as palatable."
She froze. The academy? She looked up at Miles, the question clear in her eyes. He shrugged as he sat down across from her. "My daughter isn't going to be rank and file. You'll be an officer."
She gripped had fork next to her plate, anger building in her. "Ben Matheson was my father."
Miles shook his head as he snapped his napkin open and placed it in his lap. "No, he wasn't. Never was, though he knew the truth before the Blackout and held up Rachel's lies to me when I asked. Helped her keep you from me, disappeared with you when the lights went out and kept you hidden from me and robbed me of seeing you grow up. But that's over, now. No more lies. No more hiding. You're home, now."
She wanted to lash out at him. To tell him this wasn't her home and he wasn't her dad, no matter what he said. But where "uncle" Miles might take her sass, she wasn't sure what General Matheson would do. Instead she reminded herself that she hadn't eaten since the previous morning and set herself to her breakfast. It was more food than she'd had in one meal in months, and her appetite had long since decreased in response that she couldn't eat all of it. That didn't stop Miles from making a quick sandwich of bacon, eggs and buttered toast and setting it on her plate with a firm look. She barely refrained from rolling her eyes and took her time in eating it. It seemed he wasn't entirely giving up on his more obsessively protective traits. He was satisfied with her finishing half.
"I'll be back in a while. I need to get Charlie over to the academy and introduce her to Matt."
Monroe nodded."Of course. Have a nice first day, Charlotte. Try to keep out of trouble."
Miles walked by her through the streets of Philly. It didn't escape her notice that people moved to get out of his way. She couldn't blame them. In his full General mode, Miles was scary. His dark uniform coupled with his dark looks gave off a perpetually cold menace. The soldiers were unerringly polite and regimental. People avoided his gaze. They made their way to an imposing building of brick and stone, other young people in uniforms like hers hurrying up the stairs. The guard at the door noticed the and called for attention. The cadets scrambled to the sides of the stairs and snapped rigid, making way for them to pass.
Miles walked her to an office marked Head Master and let himself in. No one was there, but he didn't seem to mind too much. Charlie looked about the office with its large desk and shelves of books.
"Charlie, I want to be clear about something." She looked up at him. "You're mine. Danny isn't, and your mother and I haven't been on friendly terms since I learned she lied to me about you." He cricked his neck. "I don't want to receive any negative reports regarding you. You won't be the one answering for it."
She swallowed. The threat was clear. Miles met her eyes, his own cold. "Do you understand?" She linked at him. "I asked you a question, Cadet."
She blinked again. "Yes, Sir."
Miles' lips quirked up at one corner. She jumped a bit as one large hand came to rest on her back, his thumb rubbing a light, brief circle there before dropping. "That's my girl. I know this is all strange and a shock to you, but I know you'll do me proud."
The door opened and a slender man in an officer's uniform came in. He smiled. "General Matheson, it's good to have you back, Sir."
"It's good to be back, Matthew." Miles placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Allow me to introduce Charlotte Marie Matheson." There was a smile in his voice.
The Head Master smiled. "It's good to finally meet you, a Cadet Matheson. I know your father has been looking forward to the day you could join us here." He looked back at Miles. "Today will be rather light. She'll be taking aptitude tests until early afternoon. I can escort her back personally with the results."
"Thank you. That is appreciated. Monroe will have me tied up in meetings all day." He squeezed her shoulder. "I'll see you when you get home. Remember what I said."
~***~
Apparently she'd done very well on her aptitude tests. Colonel Matthew Kraeger was very pleased with her results in reading and comprehension and thrilled with her math scores. He was more than happy to say so over dinner, to which he, his wife and their three children (two sons each a bit older than she and a daughter who was her age) had been invited. She noticed that Bethany Kraeger wasn't in uniform and apparently wasn't even a cadet.
"Her history is a bit weak, but that's the norm these days. With her other scores being so high, however, I gave every confidence she'll catch up there in no time. I don't know what backwater hamlet she grew up in, but she had a good teacher. She's already got a solid grounding in both calculus and trigonometry. Better than most of our commissioned officers."
Miles shared a smile with Monroe. Charlie stamped down the urge to throw something at them. They looked so smug and pleased, as though either of them had anything to down the her accomplishments. They hadn't.
"Who taught you? Ben or Aaron?" Miles at least knew there were other parties at work.
"Both. Da..." She cut that off when she noticed the slight tightening in Miles' fingers around his glass. Okay, don't mention anyone else in a paternal fashion around company. "Uncle Ben taught me at first, then Aaron after he started a school in the village."
Monroe looked studious. "Aaron. Is that the man Tom was talking about? Used to be with Google. He said the guy had a few doctorates."
Miles nodded. "Sounds about right. He's soft, not a fighter, but he's smart and has a tendency to come through when you least expect it. He killed Drexel."
Monroe looked intrigued. "What happened?"
Miles cast a glance at Charlie. "He had us over a barrel. Sent Charlie to kill the head of a clan made from pre-Blackout cops and cop families. Either she did it or he'd kill Nora and Aaron. After she left, Aaron gave a very impassioned speech about how I should choose Charlie over the pair of them and said he'd do his best to get them out. From what Nora says, Drexel got pissed I killed some of his guys and took off, so he forced them into a duel. Instead of shooting Nora, he shot himself." He grinned at Monroe's expression. "In his flask. When Drexel leaned over to make sure he was dead, Aaron shot him."
Monroe laughed. "We're talking about the chubby guy with glasses, right? I would not have expected that. Excellent example of brains over brawn. You should get him a new flask."
"I should."
Kraeger had been pondering as he listened. "Are you talking about Aaron Pittman?"
Miles nodded. "That's him. You heard of him?"
Kraeger's smile widened. "I went to MIT with him! Man was a genius in math and physics. I just didn't peg him as someone who'd survive the Blackout. He would be a huge asset to the school."
Charlie felt Miles watching her. She glanced up to meet his gaze, his mouth pursed in thought before he looked over to Monroe. "He did do a good job with Charlie, and he knows his stuff. Not to mention he helped watch over her all these years. I kinda owe him."
Monroe nodded. "Good point. Matt, why don't you get away from the Academy after lunch tomorrow and we'll go talk to him about it?"
"It would be my pleasure, Sir. I'd like to touch base with someone from my old alma matter."
Charlie felt Miles' eyes on her as they bid good-night to their guests. After she'd finished her testing, Kraeger had given her a copy of the school's code of conduct to read while he'd graded them. She remembered his not-so-subtle threat from that morning and observed the protocol she'd read. The Head Master beamed at her and told his youngest son that he could learn a thing or two from her before they left.
"Good job." Her spine stiffened at the praise. Miles rubbed her back briefly. "I think we can bend the rules against cadets having alcohol. You've earned a drink. Come on." She knew it wasn't really a request. She followed him into Monroe's office where the President was already pouring two glasses. "Make Charlie one, too."
"You'll spoil her." He flipped over another glass anyway.
"I have twenty years to make up for." He patted her shoulder with a subtle push to sit down on the sofa facing the hearth, coming to rest in the chair next to her and stretching out his legs. "You did good, Kid. Kraeger was impressed. And I know you're more than ready for the physical portion of your training." He smirked. "I might have to drop by to watch you wipe the floor up with a few of those young bucks."
"Don't mind him, Charlotte." Monroe handed a glass to Miles and one to her before he flopped down onto the sofa next to her. He stretched he legs out, crossing them at the ankles as he sank low in the cushions with his free arm draped along the back. She resolved not to lean back. "From what I can tell, any man with a daughter would much rather she beat the crap out of men rather than possibly doing anything else with them. Don't worry. I talked him out of the chastity belt idea."
Miles kicked his longer legs into Monroe's ankles. The other man kicked back.
This was beyond surreal. She was sitting between two of the most feared men on the continent. They even scared her. However they were acting like she had been part of their lives all along.
She drank the whiskey in her glass without trouble. Neither Miles nor Aaron had been stern about liquor and she handled it fine. Aaron had shared his flask on occasion and Miles had been more than willing to give her a belt or two from his bottle as she was preparing to turn in. He'd said it would help her sleep.
How had she not seen through him?
Miles took up the bottle on the end table and topped off her drink. "They won't go easy on you just because you're my daughter, Charlie. You'll have to make your own way."
"Relax, Miles. Unless you and Tom have exaggerated your reports, I'm sure our girl here will do fine." Monroe's hand had found its way from the top of the sofa to the small of her back. He rubbed circles that were not of the paternal kind Miles gave her. The was something disturbingly intimate about them. She looked over to Miles, but either he hadn't noticed or he didn't particularly mind.
Charlie downed her second glass and asked to be excused for the evening.