A/N: Sorry to the like five people that read this on this site +wait six years for each update, I keep forgetting I even have it here yikers :O

Warning: Mentions of (past) suicidal thoughts and (past) self harm.

x

25.

As Max goes to speak with the Sheriff, he asks Charon to take Gob back to the house. It's a stupid idea, because Max is shit with words, and while Charon isn't really any better, he's at least threatening, but he obeys. He keeps his hand on Gob's shoulder, to both comfort and help keep him moving, and then at last sits him down on their couch, retrieving the first-aid kit from the kitchen and getting to one knee in front of him.

"Let me," Charon says, taking his hand, and Gob sits back, wincing when Charon injects a stimpak into his wrist but otherwise remaining expressionless, blankly watching as Charon wraps gauze tight around it.

"Is that good?" he asks as he finishes, and Gob manages a little nod, which is more than enough for Charon as he fastens it in place and then intently stares Gob down. "Are you injured anywhere else?"

Gob shakes his head, slowly.

"Say something."

"I-I'm okay," he whispers, breath catching, and he wipes at his eyes. "I'm okay, I'm…"

Charon straightens up. He does not want to see Gob cry again. Awkwardly, he returns to the backroom, heats up a bowl of leftover stew, and comes back to Gob's side to find he hasn't moved at all, tears drying down his cheeks. With a sigh, Charon holds out the bowl, and Gob only briefly looks up at it.

"N-no," he says. "I'm not…"

"When did you last eat?"

Gob hesitates, brow furrowing, and then shakes his head. "I...I don't know."

"Take it," Charon says, in a tone that gives Gob no room for arguing, and so Gob does, cautiously taking a bite and then immediately starting to shovel it into his mouth. Charon is unsurprised, realizing Gob has probably gone hungry just as many times as him in the last fifteen years, and then he leans against the wall with his arms crossed just as the door is shoved open, Max grumbling under his breath as he enters.

Gob flinches at the sudden noise and then gasps softly, moving the bowl to stare wide-eyed down at the small spill he's made on the couch. "O-oh, oh...I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it—it was an ac—an accident, I'm—"

"Gob, relax," Max insists, offering him a half-hearted smile. "That was my fault. I didn't mean to scare you. You're fine."

"N-Nova?" he asks, and he's yet to even stop shaking; relaxing seems to be out of the question.

Max glances at Charon before sighing heavily. "Simms said he'll talk to him. Moriarty."

"You did not demand he speak with him now?" Charon says, and Max sighs again, much more exaggerated.

"He is! He said for me not to come, and that he'd come by here later! I'm sure he'll—"

"N-no, no," Gob interrupts, sputtering, "Colin won't—the sheriff doesn't care, he—I should have—you shouldn't have—"

"Gob, stop," Max says, sitting on the arm-rest of the couch. "I promise. No matter what he says, I'll get her out of there, okay? I—"

"No, you don't understand," Gob says, placing the bowl on the table before him and grabbing at his hair. "You don't, you don't, youcan't. When—when I'm there, he doesn't hurt her! Not—not as much as he wants to. He t-takes it out on me. When I'm there, she's okay, and now I'm not, and he's—he's g-going to get mad, and she's going to be the only one there. I-I have to go back, I have to—"

He tries to stand up, and Max shakes his head, putting a hand on Gob's shoulder. "Stop. Sit. You're not going back. You want me to just—to just let you go get beat again?"

"It's worth it," Gob breathes, looking at him desperately. "It is. Please, I'll—just—I'll get your caps back, okay? B-but I have to go back. I have to. I'm sorry. I just—"

"I said stop," Max hisses, and Gob shrinks back, raising an arm over his face as if he thinks Max is going to hit him.

Max stands and takes a few steps back, carefully holding his hands out. "Sorry. But Gob, please. You can't do that. I won't let you. I just won't. I'll get Nova out of there, but you are not going back. Okay? Hey," he says, demanding an answer, and Gob flinches again and reluctantly nods. He doesn't really have a choice, does he? Doesn't Max technically own him, now, too? After paying so much for him...far more than Colin would have ever bothered to waste…

'Are ye joking?' the man had scoffed at the initial asking price, crossing his arms as he looked down at the terrified ghoul kneeling by his feet. 'It's a shuffler. I'll give ye three-fifty. Final offer.'

The slaver had growled, muttered an agreement, and then unlocked Gob's collar, and he had never felt such relief.

'Only because he ain't stopped cryin' since we picked him up.'

'Well, all he has to do now is run me bar. Think ye can handle that, lad?'

And Gob had nodded, his hands remaining clasped behind his back, because anything sounded better than what they were doing to him. 'Y-yes, sir...yes, sir. I'll be good. I promise.'

'Colin Moriarty,' he'd said, smirking, taking Gob's arm more gently than he ever would again and pulling him to his feet.

'And I'll be holdin' ye to that.'

He blinks hard, wringing his hands together, and finally looks up at Max. "Y-yes, sir—uh, er, y-yes…Max. Okay. Yes."

Max's expression softens further at the slip. God, not this again...not two slaves...

"Gob...I'm...I'm not...you're not mine, okay? That's not what I want. I'm—you can do what you want. Except go back," he quickly adds. "Would...would you want to go back to Underworld? We can take you there!"

"I-I don't...I don't know," Gob says, leaning over slightly. "I feel sick. I don't know."

Max nods, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. That's—that's my fault. This is...a lot. You don't have to. You can stay here, okay? You can sleep on the couch. I'll get you some blankets, I have a ton, okay?" He slips past Charon and up the stairs, and Gob frowns, looking up.

"B-but...but I can't...take your bed, I...I can't—"

"I do not sleep there, anymore," Charon says quietly.

"O-oh, no? Where—"

"Okay," Max says, returning to Gob's side to give him two blankets. "Is this enough? We need two upstairs, but I can always get another if you're still cold."

Gob stares down at them, over at Charon, and then up at Max. "We?"

Max stops. A glance over his shoulder finds Charon with his face scrunched up, like he's incredibly displeased with something, and he realizes what he's let slip. "Y-yeah," he says, turning back to Gob. "Um...yeah."

"Oh," Gob says, and smiles. "You're...oh! When did that…?"

"A...a couple weeks, I...I dunno…"

"Oh!" Gob says again, far quieter, and nods. "That's great. That's really great!"

Max can't help but take it a bit insincerely, confused, and then suddenly stiffens as he thinks he realizes exactly why Charon had looked like that, why Gob had been so damn touchy with him before—

"Were you…?" He gestures uncomfortably between the two of them, and Gob's eyes go wide.

"No!" he splutters, shaking his head. "No, no, there—nothing was—I love Nova!"

Max lights up a little, cooing. "You do? Really?"

Gob groans softly. "Y-yes...it doesn't matter...but we were...we were nothing."

Charon tilts his head back, letting it rest against the wall.

"Good," Max says, giggling. "That woulda been kinda weird, right?"

Gob doesn't respond, staring off again, and when Max looks back at Charon, Charon deliberately avoids making eye-contact.

"Okay," he murmurs; if it's neither of them, it must be him. But...Charon had said no one cared out here...

He clears his throat, nods, and starts back up the stairs. "Uh...I'm...we'll talk later, yeah? Simms's probably gonna come by, and...and have Nova, and we can take you to Underworld. Oh...would she want to come, too?"

Gob cups his hands over where his ears should be and shakes his head; it feels like it's going to explode. "I don't know. I don't know."

"O-okay," Max says again, quickly going up before he makes things any worse, and Charon waits a moment before pulling himself off the wall and tilting his head down at Gob.

"I—"

"Charon, please, I can't," Gob says, desperately. "I need...I need to just...please go. Please."

Casting his eyes down to the floor, Charon nods. "As you wish," he says, leaving Gob alone, and Gob buries his face in his hands and cries.

x

"He's...gone?"

Moriarty scoffs, looking Nova over as she stands at the bottom of the stairs, clutching the banister with white knuckles.

"That is what I just said, isn't it? Then it's probably what I meant. The little vault shit paid away his debt, and finally got 'im out of me life."

Nova looks down at the floor, shaking her head, absolutely stunned. She still doesn't understand. She never thought Gob would get out of here, not until the bastard was dead, and now...he's safe. Charon and Max had finally given him the one thing she never could, no matter how much she felt for him: freedom.

She remembers just before Charon had showed up, sitting on the roof beside Gob, sharing her last cigarette; he'd looked so peaceful for just a minute, eyes half-lidded, such a startling change from his constant misery. When Nova had asked what he was thinking about, he'd looked down over the edge and simply said, 'Jumping.'

And Nova had wrapped her arms around him, letting him cry into her shoulder, helpless.

'You can't do that. Do you hear me, Gob? You can't do that. Promise me you won't. You'd be leaving me alone, and you always said you never would.'

Between hiccuping sobs, Gob had managed to sputter as close to a promise as Nova could hope for, and it was all Nova could do not to let her own tears fall.

'It's going to end soon, okay? It will. It has to.'

'No. It won't. It'll never be over.'

She hadn't had a response then, but now...

She's watched his spirit break into millions of pieces over the past fifteen years, over and over again, has watched his will to live fade into nothingness and been able to do nothing about it, but now…

Now Gob is finally gone, and Moriarty will never be able to lay a hand on him again.

She giggles, softly, and then outright laughs, and Moriarty cocks a brow at her.

"What's so funny, Nova, dear?"

"Nothing, Colin," she says, and he smirks, sauntering over to her and stroking her cheek.

"They tried to have ye, too, ye know," he says, and she watches him in disinterest. Let him do what he wants to her. Gob is safe, and that's what matters.

"But I told 'em you were too good to let go. Sorry, lass. But...the princess wanted to stay with her king anyways, didn't she? Hm? What would you do without me?"

"What will you do," she asks instead, "without a slave to beat every time another one of your hairs turn grey?"

Moriarty's smirk disappears, and there's a tense moment of silent, resentful eye-contact before he steps back, chuckles, and then backhands her so hard she falls to the floor.

"Fuck," she mutters, spitting, and cups her hand over her mouth as blood starts dripping from it.

"Watch yer pretty mouth, lass," Moriarty says, kneeling down beside her and grabbing her hair, yanking her head back. "I don't have him anymore. Shouldn't that make ye think a little more before mouthin' off to me?"

"Bruises turn people off," she says, and he hums, looking her over.

"I'm sure...with some people. Good thing I've got enough caps to cover you while they fade. In fact…" He releases her, stands, and goes to lock the door, crossing his arms as he turns and grins back at her.

"I think I've got just enough to cover closin' early tonight."

x

Night falls, and still Simms doesn't come around. It's likely he won't, Charon mentions, and Max resolves to take Charon with him in the morning, trying to make Gob feel better. It seems to work, or else Gob is too tired to fight about it, and he finally falls asleep, curled up in the blankets in the corner of the couch.

"I'm gonna get her tomorrow," Max says as he lays down beside Charon, scowling, and Charon doesn't move closer.

"You're mad at me."

Charon continues looking up at the ceiling, arm tucked behind his head, and Max rolls his eyes, turning his back to Charon and settling down on the edge. "Fine. I don't even care. You'll see. Just wait. Then you'll know I meant it."

He sniffles, pulling the blanket up to his chin, and shuts his eyes. "You said you trusted me."

There's no response for a few seconds, and then Max hears Charon sigh, feels the bed shift as Charon moves to wrap his arm around him. Max hums happily, twining their fingers together, and says, "I promise, okay? I do."

Charon is still quiet, and Max sighs. "Okay."

It's sometime later that Charon hears noises coming from downstairs, and he frowns, very carefully untangling himself from Max and then covering him up again. Then, when he's sure Max is still asleep, he starts down the stairs just as the front door closes with a soft click.

And of course, Gob is gone.

Sighing, Charon opens it and steps outside, and Gob, only a few feet away, gasps and staggers, whirling around to stare at him.

"You are very loud," Charon says, crossing his arms, and Gob ducks his head, sniveling.

"Charon, please, let me—"

"No. Go back inside."

Gob moves closer, taking his hands. "Charon, he's going to hurt her. He might have already. Please. Help me. Please?"

"Help you?"

"Y-yes. I just...just...I need her to be safe. Please. Just come."

"And what are you planning on doing, Gob?"

Gob's mouth opens, then closes again, wordless. He whimpers softly, and shrugs, and chokes out, "I don't know. I just...I need to make sure she's okay. You have to understand. He's just like Ahzrukhal, Charon, okay? You have to get it. Please?"

Charon swallows hard, briefly looks away, and then nods. "Okay."

Gob's eyes light up like Charon has never seen before. "Y-yeah? Okay?"

Charon takes a deep breath and finally squeezes Gob's hands. "Yes. Go. Carefully."

"Thank you, thank you," Gob says, kissing his hands, and then rushes off. Charon shifts, recovering, and then leans inside to grab his shotgun, only catching up as Gob struggles at the door to the saloon, twisting his key as silently as he can.

"Stay here," Gob says, as if Charon isn't a hundred times more stealthy. Charon sighs, gesturing, and Gob slips into the darkness on the other side of the door, shutting it behind him.

Charon isn't quite comfortable letting him go alone, but he gives it a minute anyway, expecting Gob to come back. He'd just needed tocheck on Nova, right?

Another minute passes, and still nothing. Charon glances around, anxiously, and then quietly pushes his way inside just before he hears a shout. He stumbles as his vision doesn't immediately adjust, hands out as he moves towards the stairs. There's scrabbling upstairs, and another muffled yelp, and Charon takes just a few steps up before suddenly something—no, not something, Gob—tumbles down and crashes into him, knocking him back and to the floor, right onto his shotgun. Something cracks, although he's not sure if it was the gun or him, and he writhes, shoving the weapon out from underneath him and then reaching up to wrap his arm around Gob, slumped motionless and too quiet atop him.

"Gob," he mumbles, and then startles as a lantern lights at the top of the stairs, immersing them in a dull orange glow.

"Shoulda fuckin' known," Moriarty spits, and Charon cups the back of Gob's head then brings his hand up, eyes wide as he realizes it's coated in blood.

"Gob," he says again, louder, and sits up, cradling Gob in his arms. Gob still doesn't move, his breaths shallow and ragged, and Charon grabs out for anything to help him back to his feet, his knee flaring with pain as he extends it.

There's a click, and Charon looks up to find Moriarty pointing his pistol at them both, one hand grabbing at the banister to support himself.

"Ye broke in," Moriarty says, his words slurring together. "I didn't know who it was. Just protectin' me business."

"No," Charon says, reaching for his gun, and Moriarty waves the pistol.

"Don't ye fuckin' try...anythin'. I'll shoot. I'll...I will…"

"You b-bastard," Nova curses, appearing from one of the rooms, looking barely able to stand on her feet. "What have you done? "

Moriarty rolls his eyes, starting down the stairs towards. "Nova, love, yer high. Ye don't know what yer seein'. Why don't ye go back to bed, now, hm?"

"You just—Gob—"

"It's just a damn corpse! He can't get any deader!"

Charon drags himself to the side, still clutching Gob tightly, and manages to get to his feet before Moriarty gets to the floor.

"Back off," he growls, "I am leaving."

"Yer not," Moriaty says, and aims directly at Charon's head. "Shouldn't'a fuckin' been threatenin' me..."

"Colin!" Nova yells, stumbling down the stairs. Moriarty so briefly moves his attention to her, and Charon shifts Gob to one arm and strikes the gun out of the man's hand.

Moriarty swears, stumbles, and then lunges at him, shoving him back against the wall. "Ye stupid fuckin'—" he seethes, wrapping his hands around Charon's neck, and Charon has no choice but to let Gob slide back to the ground, grabbing for his knife and slicing it across Moriarty's arm.

"Stop, stop it!" Nova cries, yanking at Moriarty's hair, and Moriarty turns to punch her, watching carelessly as she falls, weeping.

Charon swears, jabbing the knife forward and straight into Moriarty's back. Moriarty gasps, staggering forward, and then falls to his knees.

Nova has crawled over to Gob and protectively folded herself over him when Charon looks back down at them, and as he kneels down with every intention of carrying them both out of here if he has to, of leaving Moriarty to bleed out or fix himself, Moriarty drags himself forward with his own knife, slashing it across Charon's arm.

"Bastard!" Charon growls, knocking the man back to the floor and then pinning him there with his weight, squeezing his throat with both hands.

"Charon!" Nova exclaims, and Charon ignores her, baring his teeth as Moriarty chokes, struggles, and then he realizes just a second too late that Nova had been trying to warn him as Moriarty's hand closes around a bottle on the floor, and he can't raise his arm fast enough to block the man from smashing it over his head.

The world blurs and tilts, and he doesn't remember how he suddenly got onto his back, grimacing as Moriarty grabs for his throat with one hand, keeping his knife pointed at Nova with the other, and then—

A single gunshot rings out, and Moriarty falls back with an agonized screech, gurgles, and then doesn't move again.

"Shit," Max says, and drops to Charon's side. "God, why didn't you just stay home?"

Charon really tries to answer, tries to ask how the fuck Max had known he was here, but it turns out to be a hell of a lot easier to just let his eyes close.

Max groans and cups a hand against the gash in Charon's head, trying to slow the bleeding, and turns his attention to Nova as she starts to cry, cradling Gob against her.

"G-Gobbie...please...Gob?"

With no other solution quick enough, Max pulls his shirt off and slices it in half, tying one half tightly around Charon's head and then handing the other to Nova for her to do the same with Gob. He then gets to his feet, stumbling back as three different settlers crowd into the doorway, guns out, staring at the half-naked vault-dweller standing in a blood-covered room.

"Who's shooting? The fuck is going on?"

"Get the doctor, please!" Nova wails, and struggles to stand up. "Please, he's hurt, he's hurt, please…"

One of the settlers darts away, and the other two exchange glances before overlooking Gob entirely and looking to Max.

"Where's Moriar—"

Max has Charon's shotgun, much more threatening than his 10mm, in his grip and aimed at them before they can finish, scowling. "Pick the fucking ghoul up, now, and get him to the fucking doctor, or I'll kill you, too."

"Jesus, he's dead?" one demands, eyes wide, as the second reluctantly reaches down and gathers Gob in his arms, grimacing.

Shoving his way past that man as he heads down to the clinic with Nova trailing close behind, Simms adjusts his coat and stares down at them.

"What the hell did you do, now, boy?" he breathes, and Max moves the shotgun to point at him.

"Keeping people safe. Y-your job. I'm doing your job! 'Cause you won't! You haven't been! N-now, now, I need—I need you to get him down to Church, too." He gestures back at Charon, and Simms holds his hands out.

"Alright. No need for the gun, okay? You can—"

"I k-killed him," Max whimpers. "I killed him. It was me. Don't...don't kill them. Don't let them get hurt, please. Please? He was hurting Charon. He hurt Gob. He hurt Nova. Please, don't...don't hurt them. I'll leave. I promise, I'll leave, but you can't blame them."

Simms kneels beside Charon, wrapping one of Charon's arms around his shoulders and starting to haul him up. "I can't make any judgement yet, Max. I don't know what happened. Put the gun down, and we can talk down at the clinic. Ain't no need for anyone else to get hurt. Help me out, will you?" he asks the settler still standing by the door, and the man nods, taking Charon's other arm just as Charon groans, blinking his eyes open but making no real effort to walk on his own.

"Max," he finally mutters, dragging his feet on the steps up to the clinic, and Max sighs in relief.

"I'm okay," he says as they deposit Charon onto the bed beside where Church is already tending to Gob. "You're okay. I...I don't know if Gob is...I don't..."

Charon looks up at him, and then his bleary eyes widen as they travel down his body, attention caught by—

Max gasps and quickly turns, shrugging Charon's shotgun off his back and looking for something to cover up with, and instead finds Simms, Church, and Nova staring at him.

In the light of the candles scattered around the rooms, every self-inflicted scar above his waistline can be seen.

And there are far too many of them.

Max wraps his arms around himself, tries desperately to cover his hips and his arms, and Simms finally grabs the sheet off another bed and holds it out.

Grabbing it and tightly holding it around his shoulders, Max can only stare at the floor, utterly ashamed and trembling as tears fall down his cheeks.

"Well," Simms says finally, quietly, "Max. This...this is...a real fuckin' shit show you've caused, you know that? Jesus. Jesus."

Max nods, using the sheet to wipe at his eyes, and Simms clears his throat.

"We'll talk in the mornin'. I gotta make sure the whole town don't panic. Gotta get that mess cleaned up...fuck, Max. This ain't over. This is going to have consequences, do you understand that?"

"He understands," Nova says, settling her glare on the man, and the Sheriff murmurs something under his breath before turning and leaving.

"This is gonna be a hell of a lot of caps, if he lives," Church says, and Max slumps to his knees and covers his face.

Carefully, Nova kneels down beside him, touching his shoulder, and Max immediately latches onto her, crying as she gently rocks him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"It's okay," she whispers, petting his hair, "it's okay. You're okay, Max. It's not your fault. Gob...he's gonna be fine. He has to be. Charon is okay. It's okay. It's over. It's over, okay? It is."

It's over.

x

"Hey-a, kiddies; this is Three-Dog here again. I know most'a you've probably heard by now through your own friends, but let me say it for everyone: there's a big ol' gang a' slavers that've been travelin' around together, roundin' up all the runaways they can find. Rumor is, those runaways have been gatherin', plannin', but I barely get any news about that. Probably for the best, right? Who knows who's listenin' in on this. Anyway, be careful, kiddies. Stay safe by stayin' far away from them. They're from Paradise Falls, and anyone from there ain't nobody to be fuckin' around with. This has been Three-Dog, bringin' you the news, no matter how bad it hurts. And now, some music…"