Chapter Text
Chapter XXVI: Old Skin Cannot Be Worn Again
Charlie paced around her room until the wee hours. They awoke her during the middle of the night, as she had ordered, to let her know that Kelly Foster had just arrived from Georgia. Charlie's soldiers had made the journey back at a punishing pace, only stopping when it was absolutely necessary. She had specifically commanded them to get Foster to her as soon as humanly possible. The men had emphatically agreed, which showed that they were all afraid of losing their hard-earned victory.
Her mom, Miles, and Bass could travel at a more leisurely pace. Charlie wanted time to prepare mentally for their reunion. She apprehended their arrival because it meant her life would be turned upside down once again. The feeling of uncertainty about her place in the world would only grow stronger in their presence. She is the President, but so is Bass. She is the commander of the armed forces, but so is Miles. In the end, she did not know how to greet them after such a long time apart. How should she act? Hang on firmly to her position or revert back to what she was before they left? Could she truly erase all this time? Did she even want to do that?
As she was pacing inside her chilly bedroom, a realization hit her. All her self-questioning was in vain. No one could deny that she had changed during their separation. Adaptability was her life blood; what had allowed her to survive all these years. Shedding skin and growing a new one was the most natural thing in the world, but that also meant the old skin could no longer fit her.
She approached the fireplace to revive the fire. As fire was the only source of heat since the Blackout, all bedrooms had either a fireplace or some kind of wood stove. The maids got a fire going during the evening, getting the room to a nice toasty temperature and let it die slowly over the course of the night. Once the embers came back to life she made her way to the windows, looking at the icy drizzle trickle down the glass panes.
Charlie had learned that she could be authoritative, a workaholic, and someone who hungered for power, for control, for respect. Feeling powerless was an emotion she never wished to experience again. But it could mean having to give up on love. She didn't know if the person she was now could be lovable. Had Bass also changed? She knew they must have gone through horrible times.
There was also the matter of how to deal with Foster. Honestly, Charlie wanted to put a gun to her temple and pull the trigger. She believed it would alleviate her fears. A threat would be eliminated and Charlie would be able to secure the Republic's borders. She might even be tempted to expand their territory. Georgia would be up for grabs and every neighboring country would want a piece of the pie. But at the same time, the thought of more conquest, more conflict, and more bloodshed made her tired and unhappy. Getting bigger to keep her neighbor's at arm's length was an endless rat race that would only culminate in war. Besides, she didn't think they had the resources to administer and govern more territory. Many places in the Republic remained wild and untamed to this day. She should tidy up her own garden before coveting a larger one.
She should give Foster a trial. It would be the most honorable thing to do and she could still get the death penalty. The sooner the better, and before the others arrive. One mess at a time. Any sane jury would put Foster in front of a firing squad anyway.
She hears Ben stir in the next room. From the sounds that come from the other side of the door Charlie knows he is having a nightmare. She wonders what it could be about as she tiptoes to the connecting door and opens it slightly to listen to the darkness on the other side. she waits for a few moments, hoping it would leave him be. She tiptoes very carefully to his bedside, sitting on its edge to caress his soft hair, smoothing it out of the way. Ben doesn't wake up and seems to gradually calm down.
Back in her own room, Charlie changes into a long-sleeved marine wrap dress and heeled lace up boots that end mid-calf. She braids her long golden blonde hair to one side and takes a long dark heavy coat from her closet. When she comes out of her room, she tells the guards stationed there to fetch Ben's nanny and to stay by his door.
She calmy descends the stairs to the main entrance, where other guards greet her with a sleepy salute. She frowns slightly at their lack of vigor and decorum. Later she would make a point to impress upon them that they needed to do much better than that. But now was not the time.
" I need someone fetched and brought to my office." she states simply. The guards know what that means. The chain of command roars to life and a few minutes later, her commander of the guard joins her in a small parlor close to the main stairs where she is sipping some kind of dark tea. There used to be endless types of tea sold in specialized shops, teas of every flavor imaginable. Now the supply was a bit more tricky it seems and the taste a bit more boring as a consequence.
He looks like they just pulled him out of bed, his eyes glassy and heavy. The commander takes a step forward and silently asks for permission to speak. She nods.
"How can I make myself useful, Madam President?" he asked with a hint of yawn in his voice. Evidently not an early morning bird.
"Please fetch Judge Parris for me. Have him brought to my office." she says between tea sips.
He looks around uncertainly before adding:
"What should we tell him if he asks why you have requested to see him?"
She looks him up and down with a small impatient smirk.
"Foster, Commander. What else?"
"Of course, Madam President. I will send some people to knock on his door."
"Actually, Commander, I want you to go and knock on his door personally. This is important and you must convey that to him."
He nods and she dismisses him with a nonchalant gesture.