It's late!

I know, and I'm sorry. I did not mean for it to take this long.

Writers Block coupled with Real Life tends to slow such things down, though.

Thank you if you continued to wait.

Thank my beta for reminding me every time we talk.

All my love.

-icewolf

"We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey." - Kenji Miyazawa

She huffed.

Huffed, and pouted at the man that said she couldn't go any further in this metro station.

Who the fuck did he think he was? She deserved to go further. She didn't creep through an underground tunnel with a couple Mirelurks and disarm traps every twenty feet to be told that this area was off limits to everybody but the Family.

Fuck that shit. At least she knew she was in the right area.

CL sighed, clasping her hands together and leaning forward.

"Look, I really need to get by you, it's important I find what I'm looking for."

The man's eyes narrowed at her, before flicking behind her. CL resisted the urge to look back as well. Duh, Charon was there. The man's gaze was back to her in an instant though, and he seemed to be contemplating on an answer.

She just blinked owlishly, the corners of her lips quirking upwards.

"Alright...alright. I guess you look harmless enough."

Success! CL smiled widely, and moved to step around the sandbag barricade, until the guard stopped her with a gesture.

"If I were you, I would speak to Vance before you poke around too much. You can usually find him on the mezzanine overlooking the common area."

Oh, that was probably a good idea. She blinked again, and nodded. Yeah, probably the best, considering this was their turf. Don't want to make things bad. Worse. Something along those lines.

In fact, that was probably the advice she would have gotten from Charon.

Another smile at the man, and she skirted around the barricade.

"Well, thanks. I um...have to go now."

His eyes narrowed at her, but he didn't stand in her way, gesturing to the gates behind him instead.

"Just remember I got my eyes on you. We all do."

Well that was creepy enough of a warning. But at least he let them through. That's all that mattered to her at the moment. And he didn't say anything about Charon. Probably thought he was a hired guard, considering the ghoul still had her weapons.

Dogmeat barked once, slipping through the gates ahead of her, and CL blinked at the area, passing through it quickly. It was like somebody's room, and she didn't want to linger longer than she had to, after all.

It wasn't really polite.

On the other side though, hearing the dog bark again in the dark, and the crunching that followed, she paused, leaning against the Metro tunnel wall.

God, she was exhausted. All this for a stupid fucking letter for a whore she didn't even like.

And what the fuck was a mezzanine?

These people were insane.

Charon crossed his arms and glared at a space above Vance's (That was his name, wasn't it? Who gave a fuck?) head. The man had indeed been on the mezzanine, overlooking the entire metro station.

It grated his nerves though, on how polite and well versed the head of the Family was. It really shouldn't have, because it was a welcome reprieve from being shot at and shooting, and the man seemed genuinely peaceful, patient in speaking with Chen. It was probably because it was such a sharp deviation from what was expected from people who lived like this, away from others stuck in a tunnel.

Not that his mistress seemed bothered in the slightest.

She seemed thoughtful, from what Charon could tell from her voice. Choosing her words carefully, as if she wasn't sure exactly how to think, or speak, in a situation like this, given on what information she knew.

Charon knew exactly how she felt, but unlike her, he had no intentions of trying to understand.

They drank blood. They considered themselves vampires.

They were batshit insane.

Hm. Was that a joke? Or a pun? Bats and vampires did have a history, right? There was a faint memory of an old book, maybe about vampires? But there were wolves, something about wolves and mist and gypsies and why was Charon thinking about crystal balls and something about a man covered in fur on a full moon-

A tap on his arm, and he tilted his head down at his mistress. Her eyes were bright in the gloom, her bandaged hand resting on his armor for a second longer than was needed, and her head tilted to the metro's hallway across the upper level, before she made her way towards it.

He'd missed the entire conversation, lost in piecing old memories together. Charon shook his head slightly, trying in vain to get rid of the up and coming headache, almost missing the slight frown of the self-styled vampire as he passed.

However, the frown was not missed, and Charon shot the man a scathing glare as he followed Chen, who was bouncing up and down in the hall, waving her hands like a loon, dog running around her legs.

Her smile was there and as he approached, it grew.

That was nothing new. The warmth in his chest wasn't new, even though lately it seemed like that burning feeling was spreading through his body.

No, what was new was the fact his mind seemed to wander lately. It could be contributed to old age, really, since, as his mistress had so eloquently put it, he was 'Great-Great-Grandpappy Old'.

Though, if it was just his age, wouldn't these things be a creeping sort of feeling? And if he was going senile, would he be aware that his mind was wandering? Maybe he was becoming feral? It wouldn't surprise him, really, but why now? And there hadn't been bouts of violent tendencies.

Well, no more than normal, really.

Charon's brow furrowed slightly, eyes locked on Chen's hair as she turned away from him, typing something in a wall terminal. A password, most likely. Vance seemed pretty forthcoming to his mistress. For some reason, like the jarring peace in this station, it irritated him.

"Charon?"

He blinked, and focused again. Her eyes were on him. Large, curious, bright eyes.

"What is it?"

"You mad?"

The question took him by surprise. If Charon had eyebrows, they would have risen. The question was tentative, as if she was unsure about asking in the first place. She hadn't looked away, but her smile was twitching slightly.

"What makes you think that?"

"You're glaring holes in the back of my head."

He frowned, and crossed his arms.

Mad? No, he wasn't mad. Irritated. Though, it was probably the same emotion in a lesser degree. Did that mean he was mad? No, no he wasn't. His head was starting to throb now, right behind the eyes. Really the worst of headaches, but that was it. ("Hey.") It really had to do with his musings lately. Working for Azrukhal, Charon used to have plenty of time to think, though maybe it was just ("He-ey.") thinking into the past. Is that what senile people did? Maybe too much stimulation after what could be considered atrophy of the mind was affecting-

"Cha-ron!"

Something was pinching his ruined cheeks, and Charon glanced down at his mistress, who was on the tips of her toes to stare up at him better. Her eyes were larger, and she looked...perplexed. His hands rose, and closed on hers, pulling them away from his face, glaring down at her.

"What?"

CL huffed, rocking back on her heels, planting her hands on her hips.

Something was not right. Never mind the willies she was getting down here, or the goosebumps that rose on her arms when talking to Vance.

No, something wasn't right, because Charon was acting weird.

And not even normal weird. Weird weird. Odd. Freaky. Strangerlike.

It...was almost like being in the Ninth Circle for the first time, again, and knowing he was standing behind her and ready to snap her neck without a moment's notice. Knowing he was behind her, alert, but without the warm feeling of being on his side. Which should have been silly, because he was on her side.

Right?

But it was uneasy to feel his gaze in the back of her head, uneasy to know she'd tried to get his attention more than once and failed, and having him snap at her because he decided he was going to try out for the space program.

"Don't you snark and shout at me! Like, what's your issue, because you totally are giving me the heebie jeebies now."

"My issue?"

She stepped forward, poking a finger into his chest, despite the fact that he didn't move. Hell, his armor didn't even move.

"Yes, your i-ss-ue."

"Do you have to elongate your words?"

CL stiffened, and peered up at him from under her bangs, her lips tugging into a frown, eyes narrowing. For some reason, she had a flashback of her dad at the breakfast table, chastising her about the elongation. It hurt more than she thought it would, that little flashback.

And it made her furious.

Not that the anger would help her now. Anger just made her want to scream and cry and throw things like she did two days ago. It made her want to stamp her feet, pull out her hair and shoot things.

None of that would help her. Not now. Not for anything.

A blink, and CL refocused on the ghoul in front of her for a second, before turning away and opening the door that kept her from delivering her fucking letter.

This was all that blonde bitch's fault.

She was gonna cut that woman when she got back to Megaton. And then slice off all her hair. Or maybe just slice off all the hair, and remove the door from her house. Or steal that girl's shoes. Maybe rearrange her fridge. Hide some clothes. Yank down her pants in public.

Diabolical shit.

"Huh? What do you want?"

Excuse him? CL blinked, before shaking her head once, the words 'You're a bitch to find' hanging on her tongue before she bit them back. She really should have hit him, but that might make her a hostile in these people's eyes, and then running out guns a blazing would be in the possible and probable future.

And for once, CL would like to have random people in the Wasteland that didn't shoot her on sight.

Even if they were vampires.

Or something.

"I've been looking for you."

This Ian wasn't looking at her. Why wasn't he looking at her? She was talking to him. Her eyes narrowed, and CL clenched her fists, which stung in protest. What, was he so ashamed he couldn't look at a stranger?

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I'm pretty sure Evan King is pretty pissed right about now."

No shit, Sherlock.

He only did run away and suck the blood from his family. Geez, he really was a squirmy bitch. His hands were so awkward. It made her want to look away, ignore the tightening in the back of her throat.

"I bet he has the entire town out looking for me. He's worse than my parents."

The parents that were dead and shit? Well, CL couldn't exactly judge, since you know, she'd only met their corpses, but hey, she'd take his word for it.

"I'm here to take you home, Ian."

"Home? I don't have a home anymore. I made sure of that, didn't I?"

Hazel eyes blinked, before she stretched her sore fingers. This kid's words, they were hitting a nerve. It was rattling her cage, and she was getting irritated. Why couldn't she just...shoot him in the leg and drag him out?

Oh, right.

Vance said Ian had to choose the path he took.

Choice. Daddy had always said it was a beautiful thing.

Large hazel eyes drifted back to the seated boy, and arms crossed over her chest, CL unconsciously mirroring Charon's favorite pose. It made her feel better. Just a bit.

"I know what you did. Vance told me everything."

"Then you must think I'm some kind of monster."

No. Just a boy. One that had losta lot.

"Look, Ian...I know loss too..."

Her throat was burning with those words.

"...I know it hurts..."

Why were her eyes stinging?

"...But staying here isn't the answer."

Ian looked at her then, and CL found herself glancing at the dog pressed against her leg or a second. Her damn eyes stung so bad that she closed them for a second.

It struck her then she was trying to prevent herself from crying.

"There's something inside of me...something completely messed up!"

Large hazel eyes were retrained on Ian, and CL's eyebrows furrowed together.

"I'm a mutant. A fucking freak. The only person I was able to talk to was my sister Lucy, and she's gone."

Lucy? The vapid bitch? The blonde hadn't seemed like the ideal person to confide into, but then...CL had her own unlikely listeners.

A dark skinned face flashed in front of her vision for a second, and CL felt like gasping.

Paul.

"No one gives a shit about me except Vance and the Family. Can't you understand that?"

Yes I can. I can and you can't understand how I understand.

Either way, the letter was dug out of her bag. A little crumpled, the envelope torn slightly and stained...with what, CL didn't know. Her gaze drifted to the side again, and her voice seemed heavy to her ears.

"Read this letter, Ian. Lucy wrote it...I bet it will change your mind..."

It was taken hesitantly from her, and CL found herself staring at Ian's shoes as he read it, glancing back over her shoulder once at Charon, only to look back at the absolutely excited tone from Ian.

"She...she really misses being home...and she's asked about me in here alot!"

A smile spread on her face. That was nice. Maybe she judged Lucy a bit fast?

"I think I had it all wrong...I shouldn't have come here. I bet Lucy is feeling just as bad as me."

Well, CL wouldn't go that far.

"Please...tell Vance I've made my decision. I'm going home to Arefu..."

The smile on her face widened, even as her stomach sank even more into the pit where she'd been feeling like she needed to crawl out of the past few days.

"...I hope to see you there as well."

Large hazel eyes blinked, and CL laughed, a hand coming up to her mouth. Well, that was nice, but hell.

"I'm just gonna gather my stuff and say my goodbyes, then I'll head on back."

He got up to do just that, and CL turned, her hair flicking with the suddenness of her movement, to leave the room. The door closed behind her, and a sigh was released. Great, now she just had to talk to Vance (Who, despite being the creepy vampire guy,kinda reminded her of her dad.) again, and then she could get out of here.

CL really wanted to see the sun and sky again.

A lifetime of living underground did that to a person.

Hands clapped together, and she bounced on the soles of her feet, casting a glance at the ghoul always behind her, practically buzzing with excitement (And very willfully shoving of any gloomy feelings aside, for the time being.).

"That went well, didn't it~? I think it went well! C'mon!"

"C'mon, CL!"

"Go away, Amata."

The knocking on the door didn't stop, and CL covered her face with her pillow to block out the noise.

Daddy was home. Why didn't he stop Amata from beating down her door or something? She wasn't coming out, unless she had to. There was just no way.

The knocking stopped, and CL breathed a sigh of relief, for one misguided moment thinking that her best friend had decided to give up on her for once.

Yes, completely misguided, because the door opened then, a stream of unnaturally bright light was across her floor and streaming onto her bed, right into her eyes, which shut tightly and once again had the pillow thrown over them.

"CL! Stop acting like a Radroach and come on out! You've been stuck in your unit for days!"

Of course she was gonna be stuck in her unit. Her head hurt! Light made it worse, noise made it worse...CL just felt like shit, and while Dr. Morrison hadn't found anything actually wrong with his twelve year old daughter, the chronic headaches persisted. As did the hypersensitivity.

And,most recently, fatigue and lack of appetite.

It was a battle to get her to wake up, to eat. She fell asleep at the table, wore a blanket over her head in the family area of the unit to block out light, and simply picked and poked at her food.

It'd gotten so bad that he simply let CL stay in bed.

But somewhere along the line, Amata had gotten fed up. Obviously.

Hands grabbed the pillow and tugged it away from her face. CL gripped it like a lifeline, and tugged it back. However, Amata was a bit taller and heavier, and therefore, had the upper hand.

CL never gave up her grip, but she was pulled to the floor, and the fabric of the pillowcase ripped. That sound tore through her, and CL went limp, the pillow slipping from her fingers, which Amata held in triumph over her head.

Until she looked down, and saw CL for the first time in a week.

Large hazel eyes were red and puffy, staring off into space, her skin was paler than normal, hair in disarray. Her lip was scabbed and raw, as if it had been chewed constantly, nose was red, cheeks were blotching red, and her face was stained with the tears that were still flowing from her face.

She looked as if the entire world had been ripped out from under her feet.

Amata blinked, the pillow falling from her hands as she kneeled down and wrapped her arms around the girl she considered her sister, squeezing.

And Chen Lijuan simply sobbed until her eyes were dry.