Disclaimer: Don't Own Fallout 3.
Chapter One
Someone I Used to Know
"You're really pushing it, kid." His rough voice was edged with warning and beneath that warning was the smallest touch of frustration. For a brief moment she wondered just how far she had to push it to really see that frustration break through his usually placid surface and emerge into the light before deciding that was the last thing she wanted to see. She didn't believe he'd ever harm her, especially not as long as she held his contract, but the knowledge of what he was capable of was enough to kill any thoughts of trying to get a reaction.
"I'm just trying to help." She replied defensively, folding her arms across her chest as he once more shoved her hand away. She hadn't seen someone that stubborn since – well, since she'd looked in the mirror that morning, but that was beside the point.
"Your help is not required, I am more than capable of treating my wound." When he was satisfied that she had given up he returned once more to examining the bullet wound in his left thigh, expression scrunching up into various emotions, none of them very telling as to his opinion on its condition.
The young woman stood for a minute, watching him wordlessly. Finally she gave a deep sigh, "Yeah, you're right. You were talented enough to take the bullet, so I'm sure you can dig it out all by yourself. Don't come complaining to me when you start bleeding all over the place." Even as she said it she knew exactly how foolish the statement sounded. He was an experienced warrior who'd been fighting and caring for himself long before she had even been born and the idea that she could offer him something that he didn't already possess was ridiculous.
And of the suggestion that he would complain had been even more foolish. He rarely complained to her, and she supposed that even if there had been a knife sticking out of his heart he would not have said one word about it. She wondered if all this had come from the habit of working years upon years for people who cared nothing for his health as long as he was in well enough condition to serve them. To them he was merely a tool for bettering their own station, not a human being who could be injured and feel. There were many times that she was made to feel awkward for offering her concern to him and more than once had she been forced to take her leave of him for a short period to allow her frustrated emotions to wane before facing him once more.
This was another thing they didn't talk about: their feelings. Despite this she was confronted with the obvious fact that he could read her as clearly as if she'd written a manual explaining how she functioned. Without words he was able to discern her patterns of action and even the state of her mind at any given time. It was this ability that irritated her the most because she found it truly unfair that he could understand her so well and he was still such a mystery.
He stopped again, but this time shifted so that he could regard her fully. "You are upset."
You think? She thought angrily. She was painfully aware that her anger was childish, but believed this childishness came from being around him. Everything he did made her feel like a little girl again, from the potent grace of his every move to the very tone in his voice. As much as she had learned about life since leaving the vault all that had seemed to go out the window when she met him, for he made her feel like she knew nothing at all. It made it all the worse because she couldn't even communicate these stupid feelings to him for he would just bluntly put them down as such, unable to understand how she could spend her time concentrating on such petty little things, once more proving he was that much more wise than she was. And even if she could talk to him about it what would she say, 'sorry for being so obstinate, Charon, but you make me feel like an idiot.'
"I'm not upset." She told him, and forced herself to take a seat on the edge of a large piece of rubble before her thoughts carried her too far away from him. After the last time she'd been more careful of where she took her impromptu walks to clear her head. When he'd found her she couldn't tell if he was worried or furious, but she never wanted to see him like that again. It made her feel even more like a child in his care than his employer.
"Lying does not become the heroine of the wastes."
She sighed, fingers clenching her knees until her knuckles turned white. "I wish everyone would stop calling me that. Help a few people and suddenly I'm their fucking savior."
He didn't say anything to this, but the look he had was the equivalent to 'that's the general idea.' They'd had that conversation, or rather she'd informed him in no uncertain terms that she wasn't setting out on some heroic mission to save the world. She was just trying to find her father, and if she happened to help a few people on the way then so be it.
"I'm not perfect, okay." She muttered after a moment and turned her gaze away from his. There was something in his piercing stare that sent nervous chills down her spine, and not just because the feeling of being watched was uncomfortable, but because it seemed like he was always looking not just at her but at everything she ever was and ever would be.
"But everyone else thinks you are." He stated, and he said it not to argue about it, but to remind her of that fact. He knew she wasn't, she knew she wasn't, but due to word of mouth and Three Dog's radio transmissions most of the capitol wasteland believed she was and she knew that in itself meant something and as much as she wanted to run from the responsibility of her undeserved shadow it was there, hanging like a sword above her head. She was a beacon of hope and she had a duty to at least appear as such around people, for if they ever learned she wasn't what they thought they'd stop trying because that's the way people were.
"Yeah." She agreed aloud, staring off into the distance. The sun was setting; casting burnt orange rays across the landscape and reflecting off the exposed metal of broken buildings. Shadows were beginning to slink out from the rubble and seemed to reach their dark hands out in earnest towards the two of them. It was times like this she felt the unbearable weight of destiny pressing upon her and wanted nothing more to just give into the panic welling in her chest. "Sometimes I wish I were somebody else." She whispered absently unaware of the thought until it had passed her lips.
Out of the corner of her eyes she saw his expression falter, features tainted by the foreign visitor of shock. His hands, which had been busy creating a makeshift bandage around his thigh, froze. Then the moment was gone, and whatever thoughts had passed through his head went with it, allowing his face to melt back into his usual stony façade.
"What?" She asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
"Nothing." He went back to tending his wound.
"It didn't look like 'nothing.' You looked as if you'd seen a ghost. I know I'm pale and all, but I can't look that bad." She attempted to joke. "But seriously, if there's something I need to know spill it."
He turned to her again, expression unchanged, but there was a strange look in his clouded eyes. "For a moment you reminded me of someone I used to know."
"Oh." She crossed her legs underneath her, watching as he put the finishing touches on the bandage. "Wait, did you just share something personal with me – and me not have to drag it out of you?"
"It won't happen again."
She narrowed her eyes in thought. She couldn't tell if he was serious or not. He had a habit of sometimes blindsiding her with his own brand of subtle sarcasm. Even after all this time she was still not used to it.
"We should go. It will be dark soon." He said. "We might be able to make it back to Underworld before the sun completely sets."
She grimaced, "damn those raiders. I'd hoped to make it back to GNR and talk to Three-Dog again, but they sure fucked up those plans." She hopped off the rubble and landed with a soft thud onto the ground next to him.
"We'll have more than enough time in the morning to head by there. One night won't make any difference." He handed her the worn pack she usually carried, followed by the combat shotgun she preferred, and then gathered his own equipment. "Unless you wish to push on in the dark?"
"No, that's fine. We need to stop by Underworld anyway." She didn't show it, but she knew he hated to travel at night with her. It wasn't because he had any particular dislike for it himself, but more for the reason that she was clumsy in the dark presented them with a great disadvantage. After today's spectacular fail during combat she didn't feel comfortable giving him any more grounds to find her lacking. She slung her bag over her shoulder and turned to him with a small smile, "well, lets get going shall we?"
"Lead on."
Author's Notes: I know its not a lot, but I'm trying something new for this story than my others, which is shorter chapters. Slight hope that I can get chapters out quicker because of this. We'll see about that. Anyway, I don't know when I'll get to post another chapter and get the story actually going because I have a couple others that I promised myself I would update first but I already had this finished so I'm going to go ahead and post and let it sit for whoever happens to be interested. Reviews don't necessarily equate to updates, but I have lots of other stories going and will probably put my efforts in places that I know people are interested in. So please review with likes and dislikes. Flames will be ignored and mentally labeled under rubbish. Thank you. - Shadow
