II
xxx
The sound of wailing. Alarms. The scent of charred things and ashes. Where to go. What to do. Do I weep? Do I run?
I don't want to. I don't want to. I want to wake up from this nightmare.
xxx
"Do you know where we are? How far it is?"
"Not too long. One more stop."
"Not too long," she muttered. "Not too long will be when I see Megaton's walls."
The two crept through the subway tunnels, their whispered voices not carrying far. She had what he would call the least used pistol he had ever seen, and a very old looking rifle strapped under her pack.
"Mr. Charon?"
"Would you please stop calling me that?" he said. "It's not my surname. I don't have one."
"How do you not have one?" she asked.
"Suppose I did at one point. Don't know it."
"Stupid question, I guess," she said. "I can see how a world like this makes it easy to leave things in the past." The vault girl scratched at her forearm. "It's just a little strange. It feels too informal."
Charon straightened his shoulders. "Do you mean for our arrangement to be more formal than it currently is?"
"No," she said, startled. "I don't particularly want it to be, I just… feel like I should show respect. It's adopting a tone that is more personal than should be for how long I've known you; some kind of semblance of social politeness." She paused. "Do you understand?"
He shrugged.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"You can't," Charon said. "You could pretty much do whatever you wanted to me and there's nothing I could do about it."
He turned back to look at her and she gave him a long, hard stare. "Why on earth would I do anything cruel to you?"