Nobody's Home

Her feelings she hides.
Her dreams she can't find.
She's losing her mind.
She's fallen behind.
She can't find her place.
She's losing her faith.
She's fallen from grace.
She's all over the place.

Don't know where she belongs.
She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where she lies, broken inside.
__________________________________

'How had things gone so wrong?'

That was the question, the question she had been asking all her life. From the first moment she longed for the comfort of an ever absent mother, the first time she was harshly reprimanded by the overseer for beating the living daylights out of Butch, the first time she broke a finger messing around with the machinery in Jonas's office… Then as her father vanished, as she killed another human for the first but not the last time, when her best friend left her and she was thrust from the vault into the harshness of the wastes, alone, afraid and unknowing. The question hounded her across the wastes, from Tenpenny Tower, where her attempt at a peaceful resolution still led to bloodshed, to the mutant infested DC Ruins, where she was sure her life would end. Killing other humans, Raiders, Slavers, just plain nutjobs, and along the way as she lost a piece of herself, the innocence that could exist only in someone who had lived a life sheltered by the Vault.

And now that question was repeated, tumbling from her mouth along with the merger contents of her stomach to splatter against the ground, dredging up a terrible pain and sorrow like none she had ever felt.

Her father was dead.

The reason she had left the security of the Vault, the reason she had battled so long and so hard, her reason for wanting to save the world, it was him, all him. The light in her life, the only reason she had to keep on going, keep on fighting. And now he was gone, forsaking his daughter, sacrificing his life for this fucking Wasteland, for the dream of a woman she had never met.

It had all passed in a blur; her father slumped upon the floor, his last words…

'Run…'

His last thoughts for his precious daughter, so precious that he couldn't even lose this one battle for her. Then Dr. Li, pleading to be saved. If it not for Charon's morals, she would've left the bitch to her fate. That and her own ethics, so ingrained in her by her father, which still won her over even after he was gone. She had raced through the underworks of the Jefferson Memorial, taking out the Enclave forces with the sheer fury that came with the anger and need for vengeance. Bursting through to the open air outside the Citadel, the complete and utter panic and sorrow fully overwhelmed her as she collapsed, skin scraped from knees as she fell upon them. Tears gushed their way down her face, dropping upon the ground like bitter rain. Great sobs racked her body, forcing their way up from her chest to scrape her throat raw. Her heart was dying, feeling like it was about to overflow and burst like a dam under the weight of so much agony.

Her ghoul companion dropped to his knees beside her, the dog already shoving his snout against the girl, whining as though he shared her pain. Charon had no idea about what to do in this situation, he almost wished he could be as simple as the dog and just push himself against her and cry with her, offering his fur to be clutched and twisted. But he wasn't a dog, he was human. No, he was even less than that, a ghoul. He didn't even know if he was capable of tears anymore. And there was nothing he could do for this soul that was twisting and breaking before him. He knew all too well that there were no words of comfort, no simple gestures that would simply make everything alright again. He could not share her pain but, the sight of her, usually a soul so strong and so dazzling, now upon her knees on the cold ground bawling like a child, that alone was enough to break his diseased little heart.

Knowing not what else to do, he reached for her and pulled her to him for the first time. He clutched her to his chest, barely registering the grief-stricken blows of her fists against him as her tears soaked his leather-clad shoulder.

'Why… WHY?' she screamed into his chest. Her voice breaking, 'I… I can't do this anymore… Charon…' she turned those tear stained brown eyes up towards him as she whispered desperately, 'Help me… Please…'

'Yes…' he returned with an equally pained whisper as he picked her up in his arms, her own clutching tightly around his neck as she buried her face into it. The feel of her lips and her fragmented breathing against his neck sent goose bumps running along what was left of his skin, and Charon silently cursed himself for it. He felt the wetness of her tears running down his neck, and he knew that nothing he could do or say would ever extinguish those tears. He really was useless after all. He could fight and give his life to protect her but never could he save her fragile emotions. Despite everything she had seen and done since leaving the safety of the Vault, she was a mere young girl. A lost and frightened teenager in a fucked up world, and now, he was all she had left. That and the dog that never left her side, bound not by a contract as Charon was but by simple loyalty and love, and the more time Charon spent with her the more he felt himself being drawn to her side by the same emotions that this simple creature felt, feelings that he had long ago given up on.

But for now all he could do would be to stay by her side, protecting her as he had always done from the moment she waltzed into Underworld with that dog at her side, batting her eyelashes at Ahzrukhal while she engaged in one sided conversation with Charon for hours until he wished he would be given the order to chuck her out of the bar. But she was smart, innocently winding the barman around her little finger, sweet talking her way into his dirty little secrets, then one day popping the question, 'How much for Charon's contract?'. The ghoul businessman almost choked on his drink in surprise and Charon watched bemused as she haggled with him, before sweeping a swollen bag of bottlecaps down upon the counter. She sauntered up to him as he said his usual line, cutting him off by shoving a battered piece of paper in front of his face with the most spirited grin he'd ever seen in this bar.

'Not so fast big guy… I'm your new employer.'

Employer. She said employer. Not Master or Owner. Employer. And she didn't bat an eyelid as he blew that smug look right off of his former 'employer's face, she stopped only to swipe back the caps she had given him, along with the keys to his safe before turning to him and grinning, 'Let's get out of here, Charon.'

The light was fading from the sky now, along with the light in her eyes as pain and exhaustion called her into unconsciousness. She passed out in the ghoul's arms, tears still seeping from between eyelids already beginning to swell from her crying. The dog trotted obediently along behind them as they made their way into the Citadel after Dr. Li and the others. Charon was used to the disapproving stares that came with his ghoulification, especially when he was in the company of a young and attractive woman, but even he felt a little overwhelmed by the number of them that he was receiving now. Even Dr. Li, who pretty much owed him her life after what had happened in the Jefferson Memorial now had her eyes narrowed disapprovingly at this blatant ghoul-on-human contact. The Brotherhood were just as bad as the Enclave as far as Charon was concerned. They shot at ghouls whenever they could, not to kill but to intimidate, to make them know their place as sub-human vermin. But he didn't care anymore, because she never cared. She treated all the bigots the same, with a laugh and a shotgun pointed at their face. So he strode on in, demanding a place to lay his mistress down to rest and somebody to treat her wounds. They complied, not for him, the walking freakshow, but for her, the Lone Wanderer, Little Miss 101, their very own Wasteland Messiah. The names given to her by the ever loud mouthed Three Dog over the wavelengths of the radio. Charon thought these names a little absurd, he knew her real one after all, he knew the real girl, not the great hero of the wastes but the damaged little girl trying to save an already dead world. She was no complex Messiah, just the ever simple J.

'It's J right? Just J. Like the letter, not the bird.'

'Huh?'

'My name! Its J. Not Mistress. So stop calling me that okay?'

'Yes Miss J.'

'No! Just J alright? No titles or anything else. I didn't buy your contract to have a sycophant following me around.'

He still didn't know what 'sycophant' meant, 'Must be one of those fancy words she picked up in the Vault.' he thought as he sat by her bedside, watching the rise and fall of her torso as she breathed, seeming to finally be at peace. That would change once she awoke he knew, but for now it was enough to just be here with her in this state of limbo, in between all the terrible events, in a place unaffected by the passing of time and the outside world. The dog (Dogmeat, that was his name. That girl sure had a weird sense of humour.) curled up at his feet, and soon he heard its breathing join that of the girl's.

Charon felt his eyes droop shut, how long had it been since he last slept? He kept himself up most nights, much to the annoyance of J, in his insistence to keep a constant watch. And the events of the past few days had affected him too. He decided to relax his guard a little, just for once. They were in the Citadel after all. Not that that put him much at ease, but at least he knew they would never allow their little hero to come to any harm. And he would need to be well rested and ready to look after her once she awoke. Keeping his shotgun ready by his seat, (just in case), he drifted off to sleep on the rhythm of her breathing, not knowing that the world he would awake to would be very different from the one he had come to know.

My first Fallout3 Fanfic. And yes, J is my current 'Lone Wanderer' in the game.

I've never written a fanfic for a videogame, so please let me know what you think! :D