Just something short set in Fallout 3. Please let me know what you think :)
I do not own anything relating to the Fallout series, but I certainly do love it.
Terrified fingers hesitantly punched in the three digit code, as radiation enveloped the air-locked room. She turned to meet the face behind the glass, milky eyes watching as tears fell from her blurry blue eyes. Her sad smile was the last to mark her face before her legs gave out and she dropped among the clouds of gas. His eyes widened as time slowed around him, hands beating upon the glass, begging the door to open. At last, the door obeyed, and he rushed in, radiation burning against his already ruined skin. His hands searched until he met her smooth skin, his smoothskin. Scooping her up into his arms, he held her limp body close to him, and with tears stinging his eyes, he ran until he felt the cool night wash over him.
He dropped to his knees once outside, still holding the lone wanderer close to him. He knew she was long gone, but he wasn't ready to say goodbye. Although the life had left her, her sweet scent intoxicated him, and memories ensued.
A splash of orange and red crossed the sky as the sun set, and the cool night began to set in. He had been along her side for a month now, when the slightly-yellowed contract switched hands, and the barrel of his shotgun met his former employer's head. He remembered the day she walked into the bar and into his life. She searched for a seat, her young face hidden under a mask of dirt and exhaustion, as secrets hid behind her tired blue eyes. This smoothskin had intrigued him, but never did he imagine that he would be traveling the Wasteland with her, helping her search for the father who carelessly left her in a vault. The pain of her father's abandonment motivated her, making her strong, igniting passion and drive. She was determined, but she was scared. He had seen her late at night, as she slept around make-shift fires and on old beds while he kept watch. Her dreams overtook her, tears escaped her eyes as she awoke abruptly. He understood, but said nothing; 200 years alone in his own mind wasn't what he pictured his life would become, as he watched his skin slowly die and peel away, his neatly-kept orange hair now left in patches, and his warm spirit turn cold.
The night had rapidly approached, as a small fire roared between them. She sat with her knees to her chest, studying the fire as the shadows of the flames danced across her skin. The lone wanderer's silence was not unusual these days, the clues of her father bringing her nowhere. Her head turned up towards the sky, eyes fixated on the glowing stars, when she finally broke the silence.
"Charon, tell me about yourself."
The question had surprised him. There wasn't much to tell. So he kept it simple. "I'm a ghoul, and I have been one for too long."
"No, tell me about you before the war," she spoke, innocently.
He looked up to meet her curious glance. As more time had passed, the memories he had blurred together, and the past was starting to slip away from him. He closed his eyes, and thought for a few moments, before he began. He recalled bits and pieces of his childhood, the home he grew up in with a quiet mother and a stern father. He laughed through his younger adult life, admitting his ladies' man persona. Yet, he could truly say, he hadn't been able to find a woman that caught his eye. He had entered the military at a ripe age of 23, and a year later, they had sent him to the Institution. They had broken him down, and built him back up a killing machine. He was trained to obey whoever held his contract, and protect his employer with his own life. 2077 rolled around, and so did his thirtieth birthday, the tension of war hung in the air. He was stationed in Washington, D.C when the bombs fell through the sky on the cool morning of October 23. Military personal were warned of the unavoidable threat, and barricaded themselves in the nearby Museum of History. Two hours of nuclear catastrophe erupted upon the earth, but the safety allowed them to stay put. Months had passed, the food supply was running low, and there was a change among the remaining survivors. The immense impact of radiation had caused death, as well as the breakdown of skin, giving him, along with the others, an appearance of "zombies." One day, someone came up with the term ghoul, and it stuck, as most people came to terms with fate; those who didn't, silently took their lives. They made the best of the museum, creating a place for ghouls, a place without ridicule from the smoothskins, the Underworld. Eventually, his contract had fallen into Ahzrukhal's hand, and the corner in the Ninth Circle had become his home.
She had followed his story closely, and when he had finished, she spoke her next words slowly.
"What did you think when you first saw me?"
She looked into his gray eyes, searching for his answer. He took a deep breath, not ready to admit how he really felt about the vault girl, but she wanted to know. He tried to come up with the right words in his head, but finally gave up, letting his pent up thoughts pour.
"Smoothskin, I was….intrigued by you. Not many smoothskins willingly waltz into the Underworld, and you had been the first in a while. They would come and go, but none of them caught my eye like you did. You are so young, and you looked so broken down. I felt a pull to you, but I was bound by contract. I guess I just really wanted to talk to you." Charon watched as she crossed the distance to sit beside him.
"I hadn't felt happiness in a long, long time, but I'm almost positive I fucking felt it when your hands held my contract." He continued. She kept silent, but he was sure a smile had spread across her face.
"Traveling the wastes, especially after 200 years of seclusion, it's exhilarating. I don't know what made you spend your caps on a ghoul like me, but I guess I can say, I'm thankful."
Her smooth hand moved through the dark, landing on his gloved hand. Blue eyes pierced through the dark as she looked up to him. He wasn't expecting her lips to caress his ruined cheek. He turned to face her, with a look of confusion.
"Charon, thank you for the story…for everything." Short and simple.
As the words rolled off her tongue, he leaned in and kissed her, leaving all regret behind him. She was surprised, but she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck, smooth against rough. Her sweetness intoxicated him, and hands fumbled at ties and zippers in the dark, exploring each other's bodies. By the makeshift fire, in a sea of clothing, they made love on the remains of a hating world.
It only took him two hundred years to find the woman to catch his eye, and as his smoothskin slept in his arms, all the pain of his past burned away in the glowing fire.
Tears soaked his cheeks as Brotherhood of Steel members pulled her lifeless body away from him. As much as it pained him, he finally let go.
She died a hero, her body will be buried alongside her father, so sorry for your loss; He covered where his ears had once been, drowning out unrequited pity. He wandered, finding himself back at the Citadel, in the room they had shared while she closely pieced together a plan with other Brotherhood members on how to regain control of Project Purity. He curled up into the bed, the same bed they had just graced with their love last night. The warm sheets were now stiff and cold, and he wasn't used to the empty space next to him. His stinging eyes closed, and his mind went dark.
The ceremony was small. Her father and she were announced heroes, praised for their actions in life, as their bodies laid still in carefully constructed caskets. Before they placed father and daughter in their final resting spot, Charon approached her, a tightness growing in his chest. As hard as it was to admit, she look so peaceful, and still so beautiful. With some hesitation, he grabbed her hand, feeling her smooth skin for the last time, as he slipped a ring on her finger. He had been saving it for after she finished Project Purity, wanting to seal the bond with his smoothskin hero. Even in death, she made the ring look beautiful, and before turning to leave, he kissed her hand, slipped his contract in her care, and said aloud, "Smoothskin, thank you for letting me be a part of your story…for everything."
He walked away, ignoring all sympathetic gestures from others. He placed the pack of their belongings on his back, and walked out of the Citadel into the cool morning air of the wasteland. He didn't know where he was going, but it wasn't going to be too far from his smoothskin. He smiled softly as he spoke to himself:
"You're my employer, smoothskin, and I am bound to you by contract, forever."