Radiation rain had proved to make him more groggy than it had energetic. It'd been a decades since the last time he'd felt it on his face, and he'd known standing in it more than a hour was perhaps a bit frivolous for him. The calm warmth had eventually lead to lethargic euphoria. Nothing remotely pleasurable had touched his senses in over an endless fifty years, but it wasn't smart to have stayed outside so long.
A house, perched on a sloping hill of dying but resilient grass stood in the canopy of brown rain. A nearly buried cemetery grew noticeable the closer he got, and a stake shooting for the sky – a thing he was certain had once been a cross – perched on the top of the roof. A church.
He licked at the rain running down his mouth and smirked darkly at the idea of finding solace in the monument of Christendom. Keeping eyes scanning for animals turned crazed by the rain, he surveyed the yard for mines. The exterior was in good shape. A foundation made of brick covered in rotten wood proved why it had survived so long.
A squirrel bounded from a hole under the step way as he approached; skirting across his boots with erratic panic before fading into the distance of more incoming rain. The haze to the east proved there was more storm to come. Unlike rain before the war, this stuff wasn't going to nourish a damn thing...
With shot gun steady at the hip, a finger on the trigger and a shake of his head to clear the growing fog at the front of his brain, he entered as silently as a man his size could afford. Even before his condition was brought upon him, both before the war and after, he'd always been commended for his ability to go unnoticed. A commander had referred to him as a snake – no matter how big, they struck from seemingly nowhere.
Charon realized that silence wasn't going to be a problem. A heavy, sharp ring of fire ignited in both his ears – the force of displaced air caressing the side of his neck as a bullet missed by no more than an inch.
It was a trap.
The rope he triggered was laying at his shoulder from the trim of the door and in the darkness lay a rigged rifle with one shot.
A flutter of foot steps on the second floor caught his attention, and just as the shrouded figure reached the banister, a gun lifted at him against a shoulder, he had done the same. He was at a disadvantage though, even a well placed shot would pepper the stranger...not kill as a bullet from whatever long ranged gun was aimed down at him.
"Turn around. Walk out and shut the door behind you." Lo and behold he knew that voice and the recent, burdening memory of the girl crept back up as if he'd turned his back on her just yesterday. Against better judgment he lowered his shotgun enough that she'd have had time to shoot him before he'd even be able to aim at her.
"Rain might kill you, but I 'will' if you don't get the fuck out!" That calm, almost gentle tone had turned threatening, but he wasn't intimidated, whether from the radiation or her in general he wasn't certain.
"Nice to see you too, kid."
The silhouette wavered a second before tensing back into 'shoot first' position. She may not remember him from his voice alone – it had been said ghouls sounded alike in most respects. But something told him she knew exactly who he was.
"Was that you that's been following me then? Figured you'd corner me in when the rain came in?"
A distant, scratchy chuckle rode up his throat. It didn't even sound like him when it came out of his mouth, but something about the coincidence, the situation and her hostile reaction was amusing. Her dark figure – surrounded by gray rods of light peeking through a boarded up window – wavered once more before the gun was hoisted and a slur came out of her mouth.
Aside from being insulted he lowered his gun to the floor and kicked the door behind him with one heavy foot. The darkness swallowed up what little light the open door had let in, and within a few seconds a green block of light lit up to his right.
"Coincidence then?" she asked as he watched her descend the curved stairs. The pip-boy – he now realized – was new. He'd have remembered seeing that when he'd first saw her.
Only when she was close enough to expose his face with the green hue did he nod, dropping the grin as she frowned. There was still streaks of rain on her face and her clothes were stuck to her; clothes that were meant to be worn under armor and not seen by anyone else out here. A man he was after all, and looking at her was hard to avoid. It was just a glimpse of an old wet top and faded blue shorts, all cotton and all still very damp. Stuffed between a round hip and those shorts was, however, a little .32 pistol. Her gun may have been holstered over a shoulder, but one quick reach and she could have shot him even before he had a mind to attack her.
"I wouldn't have thought ghouls would mind being out in the rain. But..." she gave him an amusing smirk,"...maybe you guys get colds too, huh?"
"The last thing a ghoul wants is to turn feral. Overexposure to radiation can do that," he said, avoiding the real reason which was more embarrassing than it was anything else. Pleasure wasn't something he knew how to ignore – it wasn't like pain and it wasn't...normal. The effects of it was something he didn't need, alone or otherwise.
"So that's where those things come from..." she didn't seem to be asking as much as she was musing about the realization, so he kept quiet and slowly – making sure she saw him – pulled out a light. A flick and orange light bobbed between them, more flattering than the green.
She stared up at him, an odd and saturated look on her face. The barest of smiles curled her lips and he had to admit she was beautiful, even smelling of wet dog as she did.
A heavy breath expanded her chest, but his gaze stayed glued to her face as she let out a shaky sigh, "There's a fire in the back room, follow me." And he obeyed while trying to light a wet cigarette.
Her skin felt itchy around him she realized, at first she thought it was the radiation, but the first thing she'd done – like any sensible human being – was tap into a vein and subject herself to the burn and nausea of a radaway packet. They weren't pleasant, but the headaches and shakes from too much radiation had proved once that she never wanted to feel like that again and it'd taken her a long while to sprint for this place.
There was still the matter of who the hell it was that had been following her, and if it really had been him or not, but unless he was some sadistic stalker – an idea that didn't hold much merit – then it was just a strange coincidence he was here.
"So...out of curiosity..." she turned to look at him staring, emotionless, down at her, "...your not feeling like eating me are you? I mean...since you were out in the rain and all..."
He grunted, but the light from the the red ember tip of his smoke showed a small twitch to the corner of his mouth. She smirked herself, shrugging her shoulders.
He started a fire from the wood planks she'd broke herself a few minutes before he set off her trap. It would have been a shame if it'd gotten him she realized, feeling comfortable with the unexpected company he gave just by his presence. The ghoul had saved her after all. He was the closet thing to a friend she had out here – the realization almost upset her.
"I'll go reset the trap," he said in that low gravel-like voice before leaving her to bring the fire up to a blaze. He was submerged in darkness again and the fire that started crackling was the only sound. Its heat grew and with a sigh she sat down in her wet clothes, poking the charring wood with another skinny shard. What sun had been hidden behind the rain clouds was almost gone by the time he arrived, and the cold was seeping into her bones even with the fire helping to dry and warm her.
A snap in the other room signaled he'd rearmed her trap, and as expected he returned; a pack, fuller than it'd been when she'd last saw it, gripped in hand.
"Wouldn't be too hopeful to assume you've got some food in there?" she asked with a forced air of ease. In truth she was still rattled by the radiation and the rain. Books had told her about precipitation, but she couldn't enjoy like she'd thought she would have when it was just a fantasy. Out here everything was dangerous, even the rain that she'd so craved to see – it was just like the sun. She could still remember how it'd blinded her eyes and burned her skin before she realized how not-so-magical it really was.
Instead of saying anything she watched him dig out three cans of goods. In the fire light she read them: pineapple, pork and beans, and peeled tomatoes.
"What the fuck is a pine apple?"
"A fruit," he said bluntly, taking the can in her hand and stabbing it with a sharp, slim knife. He did it with all the cans; splaying their jagged lids over to expose the innards. The whole while he was as silent as if she were alone again.
"I have some cakes if you're interested..." she trailed off and watched as he shoved the can of beans and pork besides the fire, following soon with the tomatoes, "...could be like a real meal for once, dessert included." She rested her chin in a hand, pressing her thighs to her chest and giving him a quick look. His gaze was in the fire and he didn't say anything. He was avoiding her actually she realized, which in truth was fine. She didn't care for him to stare while she'd hung up her armor to dry over the sputtering radiator behind them; blowing cold air that smelt of mildew.
Above them the rain poured hard on the roof, but it's old stone held steady enough against the onslaught.
She was about to ask him about the pine apples again but something loud, unearthly and heart pounding, exploded all around them. Confounded with a sudden, terrible fear she bolted up, scrambled along the floor for her gun and whipped it around on shaky knees...all the while she started to noticed how the ghoul was as calm and still as he'd been before the noise, looking at her with eyes narrowed and amused.
"What the fuck..." she whispered – the fear still upon her and confusion as to why he wasn't moving turned to anger, "Why are you just standing there?! - we need to-"
"It's thunder. It's normal with the rain..." and that was all he said before shoving the cans of food out of the fire with the tip of his boot.
Her heart pounded as it'd never done before; so hard she felt like gagging, but his calm exterior and second amused look said he wasn't lying – it was normal...it had to be. Only when her heart slowed did she rest her gun back down, and take a deep, shallow breath. This world still had surprises, even after she'd thought she'd seen it all. The whole thought had been naïve, but it was times like this she realized she wasn't as hardened as she wished she was.
"The food is ready."
She heard him talk, but a burning embarrassment kept her from acknowledging him yet. The times he'd seen her she'd made a point to making sure nothing showcased how ignorant she truly was. Perhaps book smart, but smart to this world even after the years living in it she wasn't. She just had to wallow in her own shame for a moment and then she'd be fine...
"Vault Dwellers aren't known to last as long as you have, smoothskin. Being scared proves you're smart. It's the wrongly self-confident and fearless that get themselves killed. Don't be ashamed."
She still couldn't meet his eyes, but she crawled back beside him, crossing her legs as he pulled out a spoon and a fork missing one tooth. It was wrong, but she was glad they'd run into each other again as the tension slowly left her body. The heat, the – albeit rancid – smell of the food, and his words gave her a sense of comfort she could still recall feeling in the vault.
"You said you had cakes?" he asked in a tone almost hopeful, and finally she smirked.
"You're damn right I did. Never even opened," a grin stretched her lips as she leaned back to pull out the box.
They ate in a quiet, peaceful heat. She felt dry and full by the time they were done, and she even tried the sour yellow triangles of pine apple. It tingled on her tongue, but she decided they were good for the fabled fruit she'd heard about.
She watched the strange display of the ghoul eating one of the half sticky, half stale cakes. It was amusing to say the lease, but she kept the look off her face as she ate her own. All the while the rain turned directions, waned and then pelted the church harder.
"So...does the rain normally last long?"
"After the bombs, rains would come every few years. They could last days or hours."
"Surely the rain shouldn't hold so much radiation. I mean...two centuries and it should have burned off. It isn't like that stuff doesn't ever get broken down. Nothing lasts forever..."
"You'd be surprised," was all he said.
Despite her character the first time he'd met her, she seemed more or less relaxed in his presence now. Even after the bolt of thunder sent her halfway across the room she laid out a pallet near the fire, staring into it without the usual worry anyone else would have exhibited had there been a seven foot ghoul behind them.
Against the harsh light and shadow and of the fire, he could see the indent of her spine through the opening between shirt and shorts. She was thinner than the last time, but the hips were just as full. He stared; part in curiosity and part in appreciation. Reassuring himself he wasn't leering he let his eyes roam while taking to both his elbows with a grunt. The warmth was good with the wet rain still trying to dry between his skin and the leather. If he'd been alone he'd have taken it off, but with her acting much less the cautious adversary he didn't want to ruin what ever comfortable atmosphere had developed. Finding anyone that wouldn't put a gun to his face was worth sparing them the sight of his tattered remains.
"So, what do I call you?"
Charon paused in his leisurely mapping of her back to watch the back of her head as it curled further into her mat. This was an opportunity to reclaim his old name...
When he didn't answer her, he watched her roll to look back at him; eyes filled with a yellow light from the fire behind her. Her expression was darkened, but he looked regardless.
"Charon." He wasn't yet ready to remember anything before the bombs. Not yet. For now he was who he was, minus the contract. First and foremost, he was a killer, a survivor and a ghoul and the name they'd used for him was fine then, and it would be fine now.
"Sounds like an old name..." she mused, rolling back over to face the flames.
"It is."
She must have fallen asleep minutes after that. Her breathing was shallow and even; each rise and fall of her ribs he could count to the next inhale perfectly. The radiation had wired him up, and though his body was worn and heavy, his mind was sharp and more than awake. Sleep wouldn't come easy...
The rain fell like it was molten. Faint sounds of hissing lay in the background of the heavy patting storm. Just thinking about the heady, buzzing sensation of the radiation filled him with a calm, almost high feeling. It had felt good, better than anything had in a long while...good enough to effect his body in a way that was both a relief and a burden at the same time. The last time he'd had an erection might have been over two decades ago. The one earlier was both a blessing and a curse.
Again his eyes fell to the girl and her partially exposed back. The skin showing was smooth and clean looking. The rain must have washed away most of the dirt. She'd looked filthier the last time, though perhaps his newly awakened desires were to blame for making her look more appealing than she was.
The endless thinking, and musing must have put him into an unexpected sleep, because suddenly he was outside and there was no rain, though he could hear it plain as anything else. She was there with him, but where she stood, far enough that he couldn't see her expression, it was raining and lightening. Her body was soaked and the clothes were as thin as paper, and as see-through as glass. He found himself growing closer, though his legs weren't moving. She was standing still, unabashed at her near-naked body and when he touched her she burned him.
His hand was on fire when she said his name.
"Charon."
For so long his employers had mispronounced his name as another long standing joke, but she said it as it was meant to be said and the way she said it...
He felt a hand on his chest and again the touch lit him on fire.
"Charon..."
In an instant he was awake, and the dream was gone. Her hot touch, translucent clothes and the rain draping them both was gone to be replaced by a human and very real touch on his shoulder. There were no thought or memories of where he was or who he was with in that moment as he snatched up the hand, tossing the body belonging to that hand under him on the floor.
A strangled sound came out of her mouth, but he'd already trapped her wrist behind her back and pinned her by the neck; his hips digging into her thighs.
"...get off me!" she growled fearfully through his grip around her neck.
Immediately he was off her, on his knees looking down as she scrambled to get out from under him. A nasty look adorned her face and with a hand on her neck she groaned in discomfort. There wasn't any way to react but badly...so he growled in a mimic of her but with all the torn timbre of his ruined throat, "Why would you put your hands on me, smoothskin?"
He must not have sounded threatening enough, for she merely gave him an almost pained, mocking laugh before rubbing at a spot on her chest, "You talk in your fucking sleep...thought you were asking me a question but you kept asking it and wouldn't shut up..."
There was a suspicious gleam in her eye then as he stared blankly at her, still feeling her body heat scorched where he'd touched. His body was betraying him as it had in his youth...and she had more than likely felt it.
A shit-eating grin told him she knew something, and that something he probably didn't want her to have known...
"So...ghouls work in 'that' way after all, huh? Everyone told me it fell off after...well...you know," she sounded less mocking and more curious, but the mockery and the grin was still there all the same. It made him vaguely sick to be dealing with not only something he'd thought he'd been rid of, but also the embarrassment that came with anyone being aware of it at all.
"Don't get cocky, kid. The radiation in the rain effects us ghouls differently."
"Oh, I can tell that...hard to miss that..." a short, nearly nervous chuckle left her mouth as she looked off to the side, avoiding his eyes. He'd well and truly fucked up what ever this unhostile truce they had between them...and it was more upsetting than he had thought it'd be.
"You don't have to worry about it," he told her, "or me," he added, unsure if reassuring her was the right idea or not. She had been nearly raped last time he'd seen her. Perhaps it was a concern of hers that a ghoul like him would get ideas while she was more than easy picking here in the church, surrounded by the rain.
"I'm not. I can defend myself..."
Charon stared her down, knowing the tone he'd heard but trying his best to ignore it. He also, with a bite to his inner cheek, ignored the searching look she gave him...and the way it trailed over his body.
"...you know. If you wanted I wouldn't be opposed to-"
"I wouldn't think about it if I were you, kid," he said with a curt tone and set jaw. Opening up that idea would get him no where and it would get her everywhere she didn't want to be. The very idea was unthinkable and brash, and he'd rather cut that inkling down as quick as he could. Going decades without his dick making it's self noticeable and even longer before he'd entertained a sexual idea being possible, wasn't a good path to accepting flaky offers from smoothskins.
"How the hell do you know what I was talking about?!"
He snorted and got up, grabbing his pack and gun.
"Where do you think you're going?!"
Her stare itched on his chest, but he wasn't going to entertain any more of this. If the issue didn't go away he would take care of it himself in private...up stairs perhaps, which is where he took himself as she demanded he stay.
"Hey!"