(Charon)
I've seen her. A handful of times over these past two weeks. Her face grows rounder, her body filling out more. The curves I adored so much, returned in a matter of days as she walked around the lobby and grounds, shoving pieces of food down her throat. I'd never see her empty handed. Or doing nothing. If she wasn't eating in the lobby, she was working on her target practice on the grounds. Going through gun after gun, I'd watch as she would fire every weapon available in the tower, discarding it.
Until she found one she liked, that is. I watched from afar, making sure she wasn't distracted by me. She chose one called The Kneecapper. A modified sawed-off, really. I watched as she tossed it carelessly from hand to hand, practiced taking it from both her hip and back, and took quick aim at the targets she had placed up. It suits her, that gun. Since as far back as I've known Dez, she's always had a shotgun.
But I haven't seen her in a while. I've been preoccupied with family matters. Much to my dismay, Lily has been dragging me everywhere around the tower, as if it is something new to her. I feel she is trying to make an effort with me, trying to show me she doesn't want me to leave. It doesn't change my mind. Her pitiful attempts at a real relationship are so outlandish that sometimes I have to stifle a chuckle at her. Even if she was the perfect woman, she would not be so for me. I have always cared for, and loved Dez.
It is not simply a puppy love, either. Not because Dez was the first person to break me free of my contract, or the constraints of it, but…because she was the first person to view me as her equal. I mattered to her, when I never mattered to anyone else. It fills me, with sadness and anger, to know that soon she will departing. I've been keeping an extra careful eye out for her, worried that she has already left. This time, I will ensure her return, in my own way.
"Charon? Would you like to go out for a picnic today?"
A picnic in the Wastes is not the same as one in pre-war times. It is not enjoyable to me, to have a picnic at all, or to even leave the grounds with Lily and Mackenzie. Mainly because I must constantly be on guard. I must watch out for animals or Raiders while Lily and Mackenzie blindly run, play and enjoy themselves. The only purpose I serve to them out there, is a bodyguard. I see the irony in that statement, because it was all I was to Dez for a long period of time. But at least Dez enjoyed my company on her own, and didn't fake it.
In one of our first days together, I witnessed a part of Dez that moved me. Her anger, rage and fury caused me to…I'm not quite sure. Grow curious of the girl, perhaps. To this day, I do not know what caused her anger and pain, but I was able to see it acted out. Under an old, highway overpass, Dez ordered me to kill her. When I refused, she threatened to do it herself. I have never been placed in that kind of a situation before, and I did not know how to react to it. I simply followed what I believed I was suppose to follow, and asked her why. I told her she was a sad and lonely little girl, and after a few short words, the conversation, and her gun, was dropped. From that day onward, I began to care for her. Began to realize that I wanted to help this person, this girl, who seemed to have so much anger, rage and hostility not towards anyone else, but towards herself.
Many events took place after that. Small events, but events nonetheless. Tidbits of actions presented by both parties, proving slightly to the other that we were beginning to care for one another. More important, that I was beginning to…become normal. I have never been 'normal'. Any person I could have become, been, in the past was stripped away from me before it even had a chance to manifest. Any morals I had back then, are not the morals I have now, and any person I wanted to be, I can never be now. It seems as if in my life, there is a line. A line that parts me now, from the me in pre-war. I was…different in pre-war times, than I am now. Much, much different.
All I ever thought of was my job, nothing more, nothing less. Few things brought me inner warmth, even fewer things I saw purpose in. I simply received my objectives and carried them out as told. When people would speak with me, I never retorted in a plausible answer, one made and articulated within my own mind. I simply stated what I assumed would be the best answer, and continued on my way. Someone would tell me a joke, and I would say 'very amusing'. It is not that I found it amusing, but that it was the best answer.
When Dez entered my life, I am unsure of what changed me. Never in my entire existence and training, have I ever disobeyed an order. I disobeyed one for her, without any knowledge of her. I still, do not know why I did that. I claim it was because I found no reason for her death, but there have been many others before her who have died for much less than she. Somehow, this strange girl from the secure confines of Vault 101 was able to help me…become something. Become a person, rather than a tool used for killing as I once was.
At the first instance that I realized there was something growing inside of me for Dez, I thought of the brainwashing that took place at my facility. I was tortured in every possible way, mental, physical, emotional. After a long period of time, months or years, I was shown kindness. From then on, my life was worth something. A form of something Dez referred to at Point Lookout. Stockholm Syndrome. Eventually, through many other events and whatnot, the people were able to convert and mold me into what I once was. Dez, showing kindness and compassion for my life in her own way, I felt was acting as they were. It took time for me to realize that she was simply harboring her own, natural feelings for me. It took longer, for me to act like I knew what emotions and normalcy was. I still, to this day, do not know the correct way to act in certain situations.
Scanning the lobby, fear grows within my chest. I fear that I have missed Dez. That she has left without a solid goodbye. My heart pounds at the thought of this, as I continue on scanning. It is a few minutes, before I see the entrance to the tower open, allowing light to flood in on the ruined marble flooring. The sun brightens the dimness of the lobby, and I see Dez. She stands with her back to me, staring out at the sun. She dawns Merc Adventurer armor, and stands with her hands on her hips. Her orange and red hair, hangs loosely around her shoulders, gently swaying in the wind. I must act quickly, before I miss my chance.
"Are you leaving?"
I ask as I approach her. She turns to me. She herself has not seen me since we returned. We have not spoken.
"Yeah…yeah I'm going to GNR."
Her voice is nervous, as I stand in front of her. If not for me, she would be dead.
"Dez, I would like to come with you."
Her nerves vanish as she smiles at me, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. I want to embrace her, and turn my back on this life I lead at the tower, but I cannot. I hold myself back.
"No, Charon. You have to stay."
Reaching into my pocket, I retrieve my dog-tags. I am hoping, that giving these back to her will cause her to return once more.
"I want you to have these. I would like them back one day, so I expect you to return."
Pressing them into her hands, I close mine around hers. She looks down, then back up at me. Scars line her face, her neck, her forearms. The three diagonal scars she received at Point Lookout are faded, not matching her sun-tanned skin.
"I'll come back, Charon."
"I wish to come with you."
"I have to go now, Charon. You stay. No following. That, is an order."
I wish to hold her high. I wish to take her from this place, and find the place that I see within my dreams. But I know it is not possible. I know no such place exists, and I know that Dez will not do this with me. I can only hope she returns to me. Only hope, that when she does I will have the ability and courage to turn my back on my own moral system, and leave with her. It is what I wish to do. What I want to do. I have never loved or cared for another human being in my entire life, as I do her. I care about her most, in this world.