The moon was high in the sky by the time Charon deemed me well enough to deserve food.

"You may go inside now, and start the fire."

He didn't even say 'good job' or some dumb shit like that. All he did was get himself off the ground and go off to find a Molerat. I scowled at him, fucking prick. Turning, I walked back inside. Grabbing my pack, I slid through the crack. Rockopolis…my home. The cave was cool, and damn if I'm not happy.

"Sofa!"

I yelled, flopping myself on it. It was lumpy, but fuck if I care anymore. My body ached all over from Charon and his stupid pressure points. It felt like someone dropped a ten-ton weight on my back. Pushing off the sofa, I figured I should start the fire. I got some twigs and branches from outside, and brought them back in. Putting them together, I lit a fire in time for Charon to come through the crack with a dead Molerat.

"I made a fire."

I pointed, but he didn't even blink at me. He laid the dead thing down and began carving at it. He peeled away strips of meat, sticking them on a stick he brought in. I watched as he stuck them over the fire, and walked over to the couch.

"You will not learn everything I have. I am only teaching you what I can in the time allotted."

"Yeah…I know."

"Then I expect you to endure and perform as I say. Tonight took far too long. You would have been severely punished."

I cocked an eyebrow while I watched him take apart the sofa. He knows so much, I wonder how long it took him.

"How? I mean punished how?"

"It would have depended on your superior."

"How long did it take you to learn?"

"Seventeen years from the age of five."

Twenty-two. Charon was twenty-two when he finished his training.

"What year was that?"

He didn't answer me. He just kept taking apart the sofa. I dropped it, knowing tonight wasn't going to be a tender and loving night for us. I fucked that up once I suggested the whole training thing. Charon finished making a bed, and came to sit beside me.

"Can you go back to my Charon when training is done?"

I glared at him, trying to find out where my Charon went to.

"No. You must learn."

So be it. I have to learn. But my survival depends on it. After a bit of sitting in silence, the meat began to hiss and sizzle, some of it dripped onto the flames. Charon reached for the stick, pulling it out. We let the food cool a bit before eating. Man, I ravaged that food. I tore at it like I was some sort of animal who was starved to death. Well, I kind of fucking am. Charon made me work after walking clear across the Capital Wasteland for hours. I hadn't eaten in forever, and I'm starved for it.

"I will wake you at dawn. We will start again then."

"All day?"

"Yes."

There's no turning back. I sighed, chewing the rest of my food. This is going to come in handy for me one day, I just know it. I just hate having to work so fucking hard for it. Looking at Charon, I wished that he'd show me something. Maybe a flash of comfort in his eyes, a warm touch, something. But there was nothing. For the first time in my life, I saw him as a cold-blooded killer. I don't like that very much, really.

"Charon?"

He looked at me, cold.

"What were you like…after you got out of training? What did you look like?"

Charon shook his head, averting my eyes.

"I will tell you when you have finished training."

"No, now. Tell me now."

Charon ignored me. He got up and unstrapped his armor. He let it slide off of his body, clanking to the floor. He kept his pants on, though, and I noted at this. Charon's so totally different. I don't know him at all. It's like someone else is in the room with me right now, and I don't know what to do about it. Will this training make me like him? Will I be able to kill someone with my bare hands and not blink twice about it? I've killed plenty of people, but never with my own two hands. Never like Charon.

It makes me wonder, what he's seen and done. He's like a giant jigsaw puzzle, and I don't even have the edges. I stared at him while he smoked a cigarette, leaning against the rock. I'm like a puzzle, too. There's things in my past, in my own closet, that I'll never tell him. Feelings and events, things that I pretend never happened. Those quiet demons are the ones that really make me who I am. They're the ones that make sure I have no mercy for anyone or anything. Charon can think he's got me figured out, but right now, it feels like neither one of us knows the other.

It doesn't matter now, though. All that matters is I get another piece of food digested and that I can get some rest. I know I'm going to be sore in the morning, that's inevitable. Charon doesn't even look at me, he just leans and smokes his cigarette. I look down and eat the last piece of meat.

"You don't have to be so cold, you know. I'm not training now, you can be nice."

He ignores me. What else can I expect? I look at him all sorts of hurt and confused. He's supposed to save me, not put me in bad places. I don't like where my mind goes when there's nothing, when there's no one. It doesn't go anywhere good, it doesn't make me feel good. I hate it so fucking much. Memories and thoughts play and trace out of order and all jumbled up like some sort of radiated freak show. Except in my head, there's no sound. Things play and people speak, but nothing comes out. It's like a silent picture show almost.

In my head everyone is upset with me. I remember the faces of the people in Megaton when I first arrived. I remember when I first left the vault, and all the years before that. The Megaton people…they glared at me. They looked at my Vault 101 jumpsuit and turned their noses up. Someone said 'She's from Vault 101' with all the snotty puns and everything. I didn't even know her, but I killed her. I killed her the second she stepped out of Megaton. I never told anyone the truth, never told them I was born in the Jefferson Memorial. Only Charon knows, and those involved.

They treated me like…like I thought I was better than them. After a time I began to believe it because, hell if I'm getting blamed for something might as well do it. They looked at me, and it was like they wanted to hurl. When I'd leave and come back, they'd scowl that I'd survived. Only Gob was ever happy to see me, and fuck knows why. When I first saw him I freaked out and almost shot him. No one reacted to it. I think that's what made me like him.

When I fired that bullet from my shaking hand at Gob, it missed. I can't shoot a pistol, and even more I was terrified. I had just left home, I had no clue where I was, what I was doing, or anything like that. I just saw this rotting person in front of me, I've never seen anything like that, and fired. It missed him, thank god. But still, no one reacted. No one even asked if he was okay. They just kind of looked at me, then at him, and went back to what they were doing. Like it never mattered to them. Like…he didn't matter to them.

He yelled at me after that, of course. But then he saw me, and I think he could see the fear in my eyes. He saw how terrified I actually was way deep down inside. I didn't know what to do when he offered me a drink, free, so I accepted. After that he was my friend. We'd talk in code, and he'd know what I was saying without me having to say it.

I get to repay him for that now. I don't really feel that anything I do can actually fully repay Gob for his kindness. But hey, every small thing counts. He was the only one to be nice to me, really. The first. He seems like the last now, as I sit here staring into the fire. I'm worried. I'm worried that because I asked for this training, it'll ruin what Charon and I have. That maybe it was a bad idea, and I should have just taken my luck with unarmed combat. Hell, I have Charon. I never really need to learn, but it's good to know.

Sighing, I shook my head and stood. Walking over to the bed, I flopped down, curling myself in a ball.

"You are not taking off your armor?"

I kept my eyes closed, hearing Charon's heavy footsteps.

"No. If we need an early start, it's better I sleep with it on."

It feels like a dead-end and empty conversation. Like we met on the street, knew each other from way back, and decided to stop and chat. I hope it'll pass soon, I really miss Charon. My mind scares me, it makes me do bad things, and the only time it doesn't is when he's here. When he's with me, talking to me, being Charon. The one I know. Not this one. I think it's pretty pathetic I've come to depend on him for my own mental health, but you try living out here. Try doing the shit I've done and still be sane about it all. After a while, you'd go crazy too. You'd lose your mind, and need someone like I needed Charon.