The bar emptied to its usual drunk patrons, the ones that seemed to have wasted so long rotting away in there that they'd become part of the aged furniture. Ahzruhkal chuckled to himself darkly from behind the bar, arms crossed comfortably over his chest which rose and fell with the laughter.

Charon glowered from his designated station, now fully healed from the gift of stimpaks, and had to restrain himself from creasing his nose in disgust as the chuckling grew when Ahzruhkal observed the amount of blood on the floor.

Charon knew he was a monster. But he also knew he wasn't a sick, twisted monster that did his dirty work through a puppet who can't resist and smirked like a callous sadist when he saw his plots bear fruit. Ahzruhkal let out a long sigh of contentment.

"Well, I didn't see this coming," Ahzruhkal sneered. Charon remained silent. Ahzruhkal paced over to him, a wide smile laid luxuriously across his face, his hands clasped behind his back.

"When was the last time you spoke to me, Charon?" Ahzruhkal asked and stood directly in front of him, and if it weren't for the lofty height difference, he would have been just inches away from his face. Charon snorted. The man never had a good sense of personal space.

"Approximately twenty minutes ago now. I said, I will do as you command."

"No. No, I mean really talk, and not just to me, to anyone."

"I do not recall," Charon answered honestly. Ahzruhkal barked out a laugh in his face, and Charon had to restrain himself from wincing as a stray drop of spit hit him in the eye. He had to stop himself from shuddering.

"Clean up the blood. I don't want a glimpse of it showing through. This place already has enough questionable stains."

"I am not your errand boy."

"Oh yes, that's right...you just stab people in the back."

"Only literally Sir, never metaphorically," Charon held his head up and narrowed his eyes, pleased that the accusative tone had been noticed. Ahzruhkal smiled, and cocked his head to the side.

"Charon, if your new college ever attempts to run away...I order you to take your hunting knife and bury it in the back of her skull."

Charon blinked slowly.

"I will do as you order." He stated. Ahzruhkal flashed a smirk, turned on his heels and stalked away.

Charon felt a growl in the back of his throat. He remembered how the little woman's skin felt soft under his fingers, like lilies lining a dead man's wreath. Charcoal. He then remembered how her flesh gave way beneath the sharpened blade of his hunting Knife.

Charon couldn't lie to himself. He had learnt to enjoy killing. He relished in the thrill of the splutter of blood pumping out of a freshly slit throat and the satisfying noise his fist made when it collided with somebodies cheek bone. The sound of bones breaking, guts spilling and screams slashed short made him simply giddy with pleasure.

It hadn't always been like that, but Charon couldn't remember when he'd stopped being the one thing and became the other. One thing he knew for sure was that if you don't adapt in the Wasteland, you die in the Wasteland. He had nearly two centuries of experience to prove testament to that. If he blamed himself for the death of every innocent who died at his hand he believed that one day, through no other reason at all, he would have simply just stopped breathing.

And yet, the sound of her agony didn't seem to strike the same flame in him that the screams of others did. He didn't know how he was going to react to having another person, a smoothskin, following him around. Was he going to give her orders? Was she going to give him orders? He wasn't sure.

He looked down to his bare forearm, the stringy red muscle beneath visible against what was left of his skin and in the middle, a new white line of a scar. He'd repaired his chest with his own personal stash of stimpaks, the one he hid from Ahzruhkal incase he sold them for some caps. He allowed himself to frown. She lay crippled and bleeding at his feet, by his own hands, and she had told him she was sorry.

He muttered under his breath and swore. He wasn't sure whether to think her pathetic or some sort of Wasteland saint. He decided it was probably a bit of both, maybe leaning to the more pathetic attribute.

He suddenly felt a wave of anger rush through him. She'd willingly got herself involved with Ahzruhkal. She had the choice to leave, run away, never come back and he was shackled to the callous bastard yet she had the freedom to leave and didn't. For the second time he found himself questioning her sanity. He let out a sigh.

.

Charcoal felt herself come round out of the blackness of unconsciousness. She'd passed out through pain before they even got her down stairs. She groaned, and propped herself up on her elbows, her arms still shaking a little. She looked down and saw she was wearing her grey tank top and some black underwear. She looked around for her armor or something to cover herself and swore aloud when she found nothing in the dark, empty hospital ward.

She looked down and observed a large, red mark on her leg where the bone had torn through her skin like paper. The stimpak had mended the bone, but her whole shin was stained with an ugly black and purple bruise that yellowed at the sides. She rubbed her aching shoulder and ran her hands down her legs letting out a deep sigh before straightening up and scowling.

The ward was empty. The ward was never empty. Reiley, Graves and Barrows were nowhere to be found. Before she could slip off the bed, she felt something barrel into her chest, knocking the wind from her lungs and pinning her back down.

"If you scream, I'll order Charon to rip your lungs out," Ahzruhkal snickered down her ear, and she felt a cold blade of a knife press against her neck. She fought for breath and tried not to panic. Bad things happened when she panicked.

"We had a deal!" She spat, wriggling underneath his weight and meeting the harsh resistance of the blade that stung as it slit a thin layer of her skin.

Ahzruhkal let out a ringing giggle which echoed in the empty hospital ward and she glared up at him with wide eyed horror. Where was everybody?

"You never told me when the deal would officially start, Smoothskin. You're pretty new to giving orders, aren't you?" He pressed himself over her and breathed in her scent through his open mouth, arching his back before sinking back over her. Charcoal shuddered.

As he adjusted his knife she lashed out with her foot, and suppressed a scream as her freshly healing leg sent a tsunami of pain through her as it struck Ahzruhkal in the stomach. He snarled, and arrested both her wrists in one of his hands and pinned them down above her head. He started to chuckle and ran the knife slowly up the inside of her thigh. Her skin shivered beneath its sharpened point. He pressed his face into the curve of her neck, and smiled.

"They don't call you smoothskins for nothing," He purred as he took the knife back up to her throat, not leaving her body for a second. "Now, this might hurt a little bit..."

.

Charcoal screamed and flung herself out of the nightmare, lashing her hands out wildly. She continued screaming and slithered out from under the hands of a stranger, collapsing out of the dirty hospital bed with a painful thud.

"Easy Smoothskin, easy. You were having a bad dream, I got you," She heard Dr. Barrows say firmly as he rushed to her side. She heard the footsteps of Nurse Graves and she felt her heart rate relax. Barrows put his arms underneath her and lifted her up into his chest as he carried her back to the bed.

"And would you stop moving? That leg's still healing, I don't want you to screw up my good work. I've used up enough stimpaks on you before," He grumbled, placing her back down and lifting up her leg without warning so she fell onto her back and let out a tiny yelp of shock. He inspected it, and smiled.

"It should heal up perfect," He told her as he ran his eyes over the terrible blackened bruise. "You humans are so fragile."

Charcoal looked down at herself in frowned when she saw herself wearing what she had been in her nightmare.

"Where's my armor?" She croaked, looking around frantically for something to pull over herself.

"We're getting it repaired, you should be grateful," Barrows huffed. He watched the blood rush to her cheeks as she still looked nervously around her. He sighed heavily.

"I'm a doctor, Smoothskin. Seen it all before," He disappeared behind the surgical curtain and reappeared, throwing her an old white doctor's lab coat which still had a few peculiar discoloured stains on it. She thanked him and wrapped it round herself before chewing on her bottom lip.

"He hasn't been in my life for a single day and already he's haunting my fucking dreams," She hissed through gritted teeth. Barrows nodded, not needing to be told who.

"I would tell you he's all bark and no bite, but that's not necessarily true. Of course, it's not him who does the biting," He snorted, and shook his head.

"Now, I want to know what was running through that brain of yours when you decided to make a deal with Ahzruhkal. Did some rabid Supermutants knock your brain loose?"

"Me and Tulip told you to steer clear of him and to avoid the 9th circle all together," Graves interjected.

"I couldn't leave him." Charcoal replied flatly.

"Him? Him? You mean Charon?"

"Yes, Charon."

"But why? You've never even met him before now! You know nothing about him. Why would you risk your life like that for a complete stranger?" He stood exasperated, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I was able to help so I helped, alright? What sort of person would I be if I left him there?" She snapped, a little more harshly than she intended to.

"A sane person."

"You don't understand." She breathed, rubbing her tired eyes.

"You're right, I don't," He rolled his eyes, but it made sense to him that a young woman fresh out of a Vault would have morals like this. He took her leg in his hands again.

"Okay, make a figure of eight with your foot...yes...good...no pain? Good. We have to be sure that no tendons or nerves have been damaged or left unhealed by the stimpaks," he told her, placing her leg back down.

The double doors to the Chop shop flung open, and Charon stood scowling.

"I thought I told you years ago you were banned from stepping foot in here?" Barrows hissed as he stood in front of Charcoal. Charon scanned his eyes across the room until they landed on the small woman who sat huddled up in a lab coat.

"Ahzruhkal demands your presence," He said in a low growl without tearing his stare away from Charcoal. She flung her legs over the side of the bed, and moved to slip off, but was held back by Barrows who shook his head firmly.

"No. The patient is still recovering. From your attack. She stays here," Barrows stated, unflinching.

"I will drag her up there if it is necessary," Charon replied, a steely look in his eye which told him he wasn't bluffing. Barrows opened his mouth to argue, but Charcoal cut him off.

"It's okay, Doc, I've got to do it." She slid off the bed and was filled with relief when no pain came. She looked at Charon, and then back down at herself.

"I, er, I don't have any clothes at the moment," She stuttered. Charon blinked. A moment passed.

"Does it have to be right now?" She asked, a slightly whining tone laced across her words. Charon blinked again.

"Fine, fine, I'll come as I am," She sighed, irritated as she marched up to him, and nodded him to lead the way.

...

Okay, I suck. I'm really bad at schedules so there isn't going to be a definite update day. Chapters will be uploaded whenever but there will never be more than a week between updates. Thanks for sticking with it guys and thanks for the follows. A special thanks to MistressMira and a Guest Z for the reviews, I really appreciate them. To Guest, your review really made me grin like an idiot and I'm glad I've not made the Lone wanderer too annoying, thanks for the feedback!