(Charon)
Opening my eyes, rays of sunlight peer in through the cracks in the walls. Dust, bounces around as the morning makes itself present. I know, it's early because of how low the light is. Memories of last night fill my mind, and I intake a deep breath of fresh air. Our legs, are still tangled in with one another's. Dez's arms are still wrapped around my shoulders, and my head moves with her rhythmic breathing. This is my home now. I suppose, it's better than nothing. Not as good as the Tenpenny suite, but something more like the home we shared in Megaton. At least, when this is over, Dez and I will have a place to return to.
Sighing, I lift my arm and run my hand over Dez's torso. Although scarred, her skin, even the bare muscle, is smooth. As if every night, she applies lotion that makes it feel baby-soft. Waking up beside her, just as we are now, is a feeling I've missed greatly. A feeling, neither one of us are able to take advantage of most of the time. I hope soon, things change, and this could be part of our morning routine. It's something great to ask, but no one ever outlawed wishing.
I've never truly, had this before. Had the emotions that came, with the morning and the aftermath. With Lily, it was always business and a chore. Dez, our first night, it was just like this the next day. I left, though, before I could savior it. I should have stayed. Should have laid next to her, and held her while we were both half-asleep. But back then, I was foolish and new to all of this. I was unsure, really, of how to act and what to do. It's different now, I trust my instincts. Trust them, and they allow me to have mornings like this.
I let my hand come to beneath her right breast. With my fingertips, I trace gently the scars that the Deathclaw left. Only minor ones, on the insides of either breast are present, and I find them fascinating. As if, they decorate it, almost. Around her nipple, pink fleshy scars dance around and say 'give me attention'. In a way, they make her chest appear more rounded. Giving accents and features, to things that normally wouldn't have any. All of her scars, seem to do that for her. Seem to give traits and individuality to things, that wouldn't have much to say. To me, they make her just that much more beautiful and interesting. Only a survivor, someone who truly fights, can dawn the scars she's been given.
Waking up this way, is new to me. I've never been woken, with arms around me. In all of our time spent together, I've always held Dez. Now, to be the one being held, and feel the comfort it provides, I can understand how much that night in Megaton meant to her. She needed, the comfort of another being. Needed to feel safe, and protected. I didn't know, what degree of those things, that a simple motion could offer. Letting my eyelids fall a bit, I rest my hand atop her breast and sigh. Around my shoulders, I feel Dez's arms tighten in my sleep. She pulls me closer to her, hugging me. I'm not sure what she's dreaming, but she knows I'm here, and all is well.
Outside, Boone and Amata must still be sleeping. After all, no one came in last night. Of course Amata was nosy and peered in a couple times. Yes, I saw her, and yes, I heard her. I'll speak with her today, later on, about privacy and boundaries. She doesn't seem to understand them just yet. Getting looked at while in an intimate and vulnerable moment, doesn't do much for my performance. One of the reasons, I promised Dez that it will be far better, when we're alone. The last night we were able to be alone, was on the balcony at Tenpenny. Even then, we were rudely interrupted in the aftermath. There was no time, to simply hold her close and have what I've heard is called 'pillow talk'. Last night, both of us were far too exhausted for it.
If I could choose, what it was I would be doing every day and night of my life, it would be this. It would be to wake, beside Dez without the constraints of my armor or hers, and to fall asleep in the same manner. Living day by day, doing what we please without the fear of anyone coming after us, seems so far away, yet so much like paradise. I know very well, there are no such things as families out here. Many of them, are attacked, killed, or generally unhappy. I'm personally not a family type, either. If Dez, somehow, became pregnant with my child, I wouldn't know what to do. I'd stand by her side, but knowing how to raise something I'm partly if not wholly, responsible for is beyond me. But something for just us, without the third party, would be nice. Not a house with a white picket fence or any of that pre-war garble, but…this…this could be very nice for us. This shack and bed, surviving on basic needs and generally having a carefree style of living. I hope, one day, I can provide that for her. Perhaps, even, I could give her a piano to play until her hearts content. She plays, so beautifully.
Her nails lightly scratch my back, as she kicks her leg. I wonder if she's dreaming about another adventure. I want to pick my head up and look at her, but I don't want to risk losing this moment to the world. To time, and to the things we must do, just yet. Moments like these, are far too rare for me. I want to appreciate this, as long as I can. Her breathing, is a soft lullaby to me, as I rest my tired head on her chest. I almost, didn't have this chance. Almost lost her entirely, and just thinking of what would happen if someone took her from me, killed her even, scares me. I don't think, I'd be able to control my training, and my past.
It's been haunting me. My past. At night, I dream of snippets and clips of things I've done. I see the faces, the ghosts of those whose lives I've taken dancing in front of me, mocking me and there's nothing I can do to make them vanish. I dream mostly, of the fires that plagued this city, of the burning of the radiation, and the horrid screams of those I prevented from getting into Underworld. I dream of the countless women I was forced to bring to Ahzrukhal, their cries, their pleadings with me. In my dreams, my memories, I want nothing more than to let them go. To set them free, to kill him for doing those…those horrible things but I can't. Can't, because I couldn't in the past. My contract bound me, my training forced me, I had to obey. Obey, and submit, sometimes even watch while he did unspeakable horrors, to women and girls who…who did nothing deserving of it.
I don't notice how tightly I've been holding Dez. My eyes closed, all I can see are those terrible moments and faces. Feeling her arms gripping my shoulders, brings me back. Back, to reality, as I open my eyes. Her chest inhales deeply, and I lighten my hold.
"…You…okay?"
She breathes out, still somewhat sleeping. Lifting myself up, I know I can't run from the day forever, as much as I would like to. Leaning over her, I stroke her cheek with the back of my hand. I stare at her, smiling a bit, relieved she brought me back to where I belong.
"Yes. I'm alright."
Kissing her chin, I feel her arms pull me down to her more. Our lips touch, and in a sleepy hazy we're in the process of beginning another emotional episode. Not bad emotions, not the kind you'd cry from or run away from, but the kind you look for. The kind, you go out of your way to seek out. My hands run along her sides, her nails brush the back of my head and neck. I want, to hold her like this for as long as I can. Forever, if it's ever possible.
"Hey are you guys up?"
The door bursting open, the sound of Amata's voice, it's all not how I wanted to begin my morning. Dez and I quickly pull away from one another, and stare blankly at Amata, as she stands in the doorway. Dez is faster than I in this embarrassing moment, and she removes herself from under me. I am in no way, happy to have Amata with us.
"What the hell, Amata? Haven't you heard of knocking?"
Naked, Dez stands with her hands on her hips, tired and angry. A part of me wants to roll over and laugh but instead, I lean over and quickly snatch up my pants.
"I didn't know if you were awake. Dez what the hell, put clothes on!"
"Coming from the girl who barged in here! Put your own damn clothes on."
"I have my clothes on."
"Yeah well, fuck you. I'll show you."
Dez starts to charge towards the door. I stand as I pull on my pants, buckling them. Amata's eyes wander into places they shouldn't, and when I finally am able to walk without tripping I chase Dez out. Boone is probably awake and I don't want whatever she's doing naked, to include him.
She makes it out the door, while I shove past Amata. Standing on the edge of the cliff with Boone staring at her in shock, Dez lights a cigarette and stares out into the vastness. I'm a bit curious about this.
"Ah…"
She says, blowing out smoke.
"…Freedom."
I burst out laughing. I simply can't help it. Leave it to Dez, to turn something embarrassing and awkward into a comical situation. She knows how private I am, and pulled a stunt to get the attention off of our near-sex-caugh-in-the-act moment, and onto her. I know this, because she looks back at me, winking. Giving me a small smirk over her shoulder, she raises the cigarette to her lips. It's then I realize, I'm still half-dressed, without my boots on, bare-chested, and pants that are only buckled and not buttoned or zipped.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Boone asks her, finally registering everything in his mind. It makes me laugh a bit more, but I still hate him.
"I'm abusing the shit out of my freedom. Try it sometime. Hey Charon…wanna join me?"
I turn around, heading back to the house to get dressed properly. I don't like being seen without my armor on.
"No."
"You're absolutely no fun, you know that?"
I shrug it off, hearing her footsteps coming behind me. Amata is still in the house, and when Dez notices this, it makes for one awkward stare-down.
"Why are you still in here?"
Dez asks, wrapping her arms around my bare torso. I feel her breasts against my back and in my mind, curse Amata to hell. In a way, I figure Dez is proving a point. There's an unspoken language between women, one I'm positive Amata and Dez share. What they say and mean in this language, I have yet to figure out. Dez showing this form of PDA is a signal to Amata, probably that I am hers. Although, I highly doubt and want to laugh at, Amata wanting to take me from Dez.
"I want to make sure you get dressed and not…other things."
"That's not creepy at all. You know, being watched when you're twenty-five and naked. No, Amata, you are not creepy."
Dez rubs her face into my back, still holding me as I bend down to retrieve my shirt. I look back at her.
"I can't dress, with you there."
"I'm hiding my personal attributes from Amata the Creep."
"You just showed Amata your attributes."
"You smell delicious."
I sigh and shake my head. Although humorous, it's quite annoying.
"Amata, please step outside. We'll be out shortly."
I say, trying to pull my shirt over my head while Dez still clings to me. When the door slams shut, she lets me go, sighing.
"Fuck her."
"Dez, don't be difficult. Get dressed, we have to plan."
She walks over and grabs her top. Putting it on with no effort at all, she looks for her pants. I search for my armor with my eyes as I slide on my shirt.
"Here's the plan. Ditch Humpty and Dumpty and go blow the shit out of the Brotherhood with a Fat Man."
"We don't even know where the Brotherhood are."
Uncaring, Dez shrugs. Pulling up her Pip-Boy she stands, still without pants, and glares at her map.
"They're in the city, for sure. But…where…nowhere near Rivet…Charon did you notice anything suspicious when you were in Rivet City?"
"No I was preoccupied."
Finding my armor top I slide it on and buckle the straps.
"They might be near the Jefferson Memorial. Or even the ruins of the Citadel."
"I'd suspect the ruins of the Citadel. There's still valuable technology there."
Suddenly, as if she's hit with some bright new idea, Dez drops her Pip-Boy and stares at me. I know that look. Nothing good, ever comes from that.
"Fort Independence."
"What?"
I say, tugging on my boots and beginning to lace them.
"That's where they are, Fort Independence."
"And you know this?"
"Charon, McGraw took over the Brotherhood. Casdin is dead, and we did away with Lyons. McGraw wouldn't by any means, call for backup without a place to stay, right?"
"I suppose, yes."
"So then wouldn't, after moving most of his men out, McGraw eventually return to the fort after he believed both of us to be dead? It makes perfect sense. It's secured, not easily accessible, has underground areas, and rooms to spare."
"You have a valid point."
"Charon, there's no other place. Where else would McGraw be able to command an army? They have to sleep, eat and shit somewhere, right? Fort Independence might be the last large working facility available. If they are there, it's to our advantage."
Getting my last boot laced, I stand up and grab my gun.
"How so?"
Dez gives me a coy look, putting her pants on and tossing her cigarette on the floor. I step on it for her, not wanting to burn down my own newfound home.
"Because we've been there before, Charon."
"And we're going back, aren't we?"
"If Bigsley isn't there, then he's at the memorial. Either way, we can blow the fuck out of the fort and then stroll on down to the memorial all happy and shit. Since, well, there won't be anymore Brotherhood. I'm going to blow it up."
"It's not that easy, Dez."
"Is it ever?"
It's all she says before racing out to tell Boone and Amata the plan. Staying behind, I sigh and shake my head. When all this is over, I won't be sad. I won't miss these days, like I do the days when we first met. Maybe, if I'm able to bring the Capital Wasteland some justice, the haunting images of my past will go away. I know I can't run from it forever, but I'd like to. After all, there's no real logical way for me to face it now, anyways.
Walking outside, I shut the door behind me. It's unlikely anyone will come here, and if they do and we find them upon our return, it won't be hard to kick them out. By the time I make it to Dez, she's finishing up telling her idea and plan to Boone and Amata.
"How do you expect to 'blow it up'?"
Boone asks, folding his arms. He obviously doesn't know Dezbe very well, if he doubts she can do that. I've seen her blow up many a things in my time. She's perfectly capable of it.
"I'll figure something out. But that's what we're doing."
"Dez, that's dangerous."
"Shut up Princess Amata Creep."
Amata shakes her head. She gathers up her loose brown hair and proceeds to pull it into a bun. I watch, for a bit, and wonder what Dez would have looked like had she put her hair back.
"I need to get a gun…we gotta kill someone for one. Or shells. Charon give me shotgun shells."
"I use drums."
I tell her, looking down. She shrugs, and looks at the sky.
"We should get moving."
And with that, we do. Amata and Boone have no argument against Dez, or her plan. Figure going on that, must be better than going on nothing at all. At least we have a goal, a destination. Something to work towards. If the fort turns out to be empty, we'll start from scratch and move on. But if we get there, and succeed in Dez's half-assed plan, then what happens next? Will Boone and Amata continue to follow us? I can only hope not.
Lagging a bit behind as we walk down the hill, I allow Boone to walk up front with Dez. I have to speak with Amata, pertaining to the incident last night. When she comes to my side, I notice she's a bit too eager to talk to me.
"How're you?"
Not the question I'd expect from someone like her. I hadn't really expected her to be so comfortable around me so suddenly. But I think nothing of it.
"I would like to discuss something with you, Amata."
"You know, Charon you talk like you're from another time almost."
I narrow my eyes at her as we all reach the base of the hill. Dez chats up Boone about random things, the weather being one of them. Today is a cloudy day, I expect there to be rain. If, that is, rain is still going to happen. It's been twice and once with snow, it's slowly becoming the East Coast once more. With the weather, changing in simply five minutes.
"I am."
"Oh, right, the old thing."
I am not 'old'. I am a ghoul. I do not see myself as old, nor do I feel old. After a while of living, you sometimes even lose track of your age. Or even, living itself. Luckily these past few years are worth remembering.
"Amata I would like to discuss last night."
"Last night?"
"You need to know and understand people's privacy."
I look at her, lighting a cigarette. Amata didn't think she'd been seen, I'm suspecting. I wouldn't have noticed her, either, if she hadn't been screaming about it to Boone. I'm glad for my sake and sanity, Dez didn't hear her.
"I…didn't think you saw me…"
Her voice quivers and shakes, I know very well she's embarrassed. I would be too, but then again, I wouldn't be caught doing that. I understand she's from the vault and a bit oblivious, but that is still unacceptable.
"I did. Feel lucky it wasn't Dez who saw you."
Amata sighs and nervously plays with her hands. Looking at Dez, I sigh a bit. She's pointing at something and talking to Boone. It can only be another inane example.
"I am. She would have flipped. But I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I was just shocked. Didn't know that you two had that sort of relationship is all."
"You couldn't tell? I had thought it would be obvious."
"No, no I didn't. Or, couldn't. I just thought, I don't know, you were close. Didn't think you were that close."
Sighing, I toss my cigarette to the ground. There's no need to step on it. Dark, gray clouds are coming in above me. It's not a figure of speech, there truly is rain coming. Since it's during the day I suspect it'll be a cool refresher. Amata already seems like she's sweating. We haven't even walked far. Glancing over my shoulder, I can still see the shack.
"We are."
I say in late reply. Amata sighs, biting her lip.
"Charon? Can I ask you something?"
"Suppose."
Amata sighs again, something must be bothering her.
"Boone told me about some things, but I'm not sure if I can ask you. He said not to say anything, but I can't."
"What is it?"
She looks at me, her brown eyes trying to bore holes in my skull.
"Boone said you weren't faithful to Dez."
I stop walking, but then start again. Causing a scene wouldn't be in my best interest right now, so I try to avoid it. Right now, the most effective thing to do is to ask Amata all I can about what Boone's said, and then use it later on, when things settle down. It'll give me an excuse to have the both of them leave the party. I'd rather not, be talked about, more than I already am.
"Boone said this?"
"Yeah, last night. Said you weren't really that loyal to her. Slept with some lady."
"I see."
"Well? Is it true?"
"That's none of your concern. You should be discussing more pressing matters, other than what Dez and I are doing in our spare times."
With that I walk away from Amata. Dez and Boone are still talking/arguing over something I don't really care for, when I push between them.
"Oh, hello Charon. Fancy seeing you here."
"Hm."
By instinct Dez knows I'm angry. Boone picks up on it eventually. I won't say anything to Dez for now, because she'll beyond a reasonable doubt, cause a scene.
"Charon, you alright?"
I feel her lay a hand on my bare arm, and I nod. Why am I constantly reminded of things that I only wish to forget? It isn't like I close my eyes and imagine Lily or Jackie to get my 'kicks'. In fact, the only time they cross my mind is when Dez brings them up, or in moments like these where I'm forced into thinking about them. I'd rather not, remember them, remember what I did with them, or anything about them, really. It wasn't spectacular, wasn't life-changing, and certainly wasn't anything comparable to what I have with Dez. Yet here I am, still wondering over it.
I suppose being forced to think about them, is better than being forced to think about my past. With all that's been happening, and nearly losing Dez, it seems now more than ever, my past is coming back to me. The mistakes I realize now I've made, the misguided beliefs, the horrible feelings when certain things happened, it all plays in my mind. As if I'm watching it on a screen at a drive-in theatre. One of those pre-war types, with many cars. Yet I can't figure how to close my eyes or stop it. I see myself, committing horrible acts and watching as my hands grow stained with blood over time. It makes me uneasy, even now as I walk.
Perhaps speaking of these incidents, will at least cause them to stay dormant. Yet I don't know the first thing, on initiating a conversation that deep. It must have to simply happen naturally, and until it does there's nothing I can do. Dez knows only a summary, of what I've done. The short-PG-13 rated kind. She doesn't know, to what extent, the crimes I've committed. One of the reasons, I don't feel worthy or good enough for Dez is…is mainly because of Ahzrukhal.
Bringing women back, without so much as a second glance, she mentioned once to me that one of those women could have been her. After Dez said that, years ago, I began to think. Think that, what if it was? Or worse, thinking and perhaps even knowing, those girls had lives. People who loved them, a family perhaps, but someone cared for them. They, were somebody's daughter. Yet without any remorse, I would take them, knock them unconscious or at least quiet them, and return them to Ahzrukhal. He'd do his bidding, his crimes worse than anything I've seen before. As sick as it is, I felt better about it all when he let me watch. Because then, the cries weren't as deep, and the pain for them wasn't as sharp. He never fully hurt them, if I was present. It comforts me, in a way, to make me think that I spared them at least some pain.
Looking over the Wastes, I try not to remember it, but I can't help myself. We walk on an old, broken road. I've traveled this road before, in a car, and on foot. Walked through this now-wasteland area. It was pre-war, and it was a busy side-street. I can still see the black, shining pavement if I look down hard enough, and concentrate. Emerging from Vault 101, to see the only place I had ever known in flames…I'm not sure what it did to me. The radiation burned, the smoke was chocking me, and yet I survived. I suppose I have my determination and training to thank for that. The walk to the city…though, was something I never want to see again.
It was as if people were burning from the inside out. Mothers held dying children, men tried to save women and offer comfort. But there was no comfort to be offered. No matter where you were or tried to hide, you were hit with the radiation. Fierce, pure, undiluted, it made your skin crawl and eyes burn. Similar, to pepper spray. I heard cries of sorrow, of pain, of anger and torture when I walked to the city that was engulfed in flames. I can't explain, what drove me to walk there. Perhaps the thought of protection? Of safety? Or maybe it was my obedient nature, listening to my former employer to run away from Vault 101. I can't say. As I walked, I looked down at one point, the pain numbing me almost. I looked into the eyes of a woman who clung mercilessly to a man. The man, was dead in her arms, but she was so scared she didn't realize it. She asked me for help, grabbed my leather pant leg, and cried. I didn't know what to do. I kept walking, thinking only…only of finding an employer and dealing with the horrors before me. Even though then, I didn't fully understand it.
Now, I'm beginning to. It's all coming back to me, uncensored, unhinged. It's because back then I had no emotions. Had no ties to reality, only a simple objective. Find an employer, and obey. Obey and serve, as I was so dutifully trained to do. Now that, emotions are present in my everyday life, I find the memories playing back. The emotions, coming with each and every instance. That woman I saw, who begged me for help, I regret not helping her. It hurts inside, to remember her. She died without a name, as so many people in those days, did.
The fires were massive, and I forget now how many days it took for them to put themselves out. With acidic rain fueling them in a way acidic rain shouldn't, the fires raged onwards and spread. Anything that survived the bombings, was engulfed in the flames. Of course the fires never left the city, because the river protected the suburbs. But it burned as hot, and as thick as a fire could. Until they were extinguished, I held down the safe-haven that would become Underworld. With no employer, but having something, a group, to protect I felt at ease. There were instances where I left the museum, in search of food and supplies. Most of the time, I came back with something. But there were days, a few days even, when everyone would cry from hunger.
So many bodies, were piled in Underworld. The smell, even as the years passed on, never left. It's why Underworld smelt the way it did. Because the stench of fifty rotting bodies never truly leaves. There was no way to dispose of them, to bury them, with the fires yearning to get inside. When they died, was when the fire was white-hot. Opening the doors was a no-go, since they burned to the touch. So we lived with them, the bodies of our dead loved ones, in the center around the broken statue, until it was safe for us to release them into the world.
Just because the fires ended, though, didn't mean the horrors and torments did.
"Charon?"
I blink my memories leaving and the droplets of rain hitting the top of my head becoming apparent. Looking down at Dez, I give her a blank stare.
"…What is it? Tell me?"
She knows when something is on my mind. I'm not quite sure yet, if I like it or not.
"At a later time."
"Is it me?"
"What? What, no. No, it's not you. Calm down."
She shrugs and takes my hand. For a minute, she squeezes it. I stare at her, when she lets it go. The rain begins to fall harder. Behind us, Boone is explaining the concept of 'rain' to Amata. Dez and I walk onwards, soaking to the bone. The mood of the rain, is befitting.
