Teaching Cito to speak properly was not as hard as Luna thought it would be, and at times it was even fun. They were able to start understanding each other's jokes more, and the occasional Freudian slip resulted in a few laughs. Although, at first Luna found herself struggling to step away from her traumas and deep depression in order to fully be there for Cito, and all his milestones, after a few days she came to look forward to, and find comfort, in teaching Cito. Luna even hoped she might get the chance to teach him how to read and write, despite that being a virtually useless skill in this post-apocalyptic world.

On the second day of Cito's lessons, Mason requested, which was more of an order, that Luna and Cito spend as much time together as was possible, so that he would be ready for Pack initiation at the end of the month. This meant that Luna shared everything with Cito; meals, walks, the corner of a room for sleeping, and he virtually never left her side - not even when she told him she needed the toilet or to wash herself. Which had made for some embarrassing moments, and yet despite all of that, Luna found herself almost at ease with him. Cito was becoming something of a friend, and it would be a shame if she managed to escape and had to leave him behind - like all of her other dead friends.

Aside from Luna's concerns of abandoning Cito, she was still on edge about the rest of the Pack, especially Mason. He would sit on his throne and watch Luna with such an intensity that it made her squeamish, and all the while she tried to remain professional as she taught Cito. Did he know that she was planning to escape? Would Mason have his lackies flog her? Or would he detonate the bomb collar around her neck, and be done with her finally? Whatever Mason was thinking, Luna knew she needed to find a way to deactivate her and Cito's collars, at the very least, and do it fast.

"Luna." called Mason, drawing her attention back to where he sat on his throne. "Come here."

Whether she liked it or not, all eyes were on Luna, where she sat in front of Cito, on the hard concrete steps. She glanced nervously between Mason and the rest of the Pack members who were staring at her in silence. Even the animals, it seemed, stopped what they were doing to stare. Slowly, Luna stood up and walked towards Mason, glancing back at Cito, who also watched. Though his blank stare, she had come to learn, didn't mean he wasn't thinking. Maybe his stare was more of a protective gaze, than a curious one, she hoped.

"We need to talk, in private." Mason stated, leaning forward to stand up from his seat. His words sent a shock of anxiety through Luna, a cold sweat prickling at the back of her neck and on her palms.

She must have mentally blacked out for a few seconds, because Mason was now down the steps and on the other side of the cage that held the fighting dogs, when he turned back and called her name once more, a little more impatiently.

Hurriedly, Luna followed Mason backstage, and into a room, near the back. It looked like an old wardrobe room, with all its coat racks, hangers, and piles of forgotten animal costumes. Mason shooed a Pack member out of the room, before shutting and locking the door. The click was deafening to Luna's ears, as there was now no chance for a quick get away if things turned south. Who was she kidding? For the second time in less than a month, she was locked in a room with the crazed leader of a gang of gun toting psychos, with no escape. Why did she keep letting this happen to herself?

"Look at me." commanded Mason, once again, drawing her from her thoughts. Luna couldn't help but do as she was told, fear building up at the base of her spine and in her gut, her chest felt tight and it was hard to breath. Stepping around her, Mason walked to a nearby table and grabbed a bottle of whiskey.
"I want you to tell me how it is you came to be in the Gunners' possession, bruised up, and covered in blood and bits of bone." His question caught Luna off guard, finding she was able to suck in a much needed breath of air once more, and yet at the same time the reminder of that whole situation made her want to hurl. The bruises had mostly faded, but the memories had scarred.

"You don't look like much of a fighter," he continued, with a glance that traveled down Luna's body and back up to her face, making her feel naked, "and I've been watching you for the last few days. I would have noticed if you had any violent tendencies." Mason finished his question and explanation with a swig from the whiskey bottle. Luna hesitated, biting her tongue for as long as she could, hoping Mason would lose interest or change the subject. Sadly, he did neither, instead he continued to look at her, waiting for her explanation, and when none came forth willingly, he shook the amber bottle in Luna's direction, offering her some. Without thinking, Luna grabbed the bottle and took a deep pull, sputtering from the harsh burn that the liquid left in its wake. Despite the burn and stale taste, Luna continued, but with smaller sips, and pausing to breathe.

Mason tried not to laugh at her reaction to the alcohol, but it had been a long time since he had witnessed someone choke from the burn of alcohol, so instead he covered his grin with his fist and a fake cough."Are you ready to talk about it now?" he asked, still grinning.

"No." Luna risked, glancing up at Mason once more, for fear he would lash out at her disobedience. To her surprise, he merely crossed his arms and waited silently. It was a little odd, Luna thought, that the leader of the Pack would be so patient and wait for her to come forth willingly. But then again, they did liken themselves to animals, and were all predators of various degrees, so it made sense, in a way.

The silence stretched on, awkwardly, for nearly a half hour. In that time, Luna had migrated to a nearby chair, bottle in hand, with the occasional sip, and Mason remaining where he stood - watching her like a hawk. In that span of time, Luna could feel a buzz coming on, that left her feeling warm and fuzzy. She didn't normally drink, and the last time she had been drunk was nearly a month ago.

"Did you plan to get me drunk and make me talk?" Luna accused suddenly, pointing a finger at the Alpha.

Mason looked hurt that she would dare accuse him of such a thing, and yet when he spoke his voice was pure silk, "Well, no, that's all on you. I just thought you might be thirsty. You're the one," he proclaimed, pointing his own finger back at her, and stepping closer, "that kept the bottle and continued to drink from it."

Luna knew he had a point, and now she felt guilty. "I'm sorry." She muttered, her emotions swirling like a vicious tornado. The drink most certain had not helped her control those emotions, but had definitely loosened her up a fair bit.

"It's okay, as long as you tell me what I want to know."

And she did. Luna told Mason everything, from her run in with the Gunners, to Anders and MacCready, to Wes and what he had tried to do to her. It all came spilling forth, unchecked, and it felt good talk about all of it finally. Luna felt as though a kind of weight had been lifted from her chest, and yet the anxiety, depression, and trauma remained all the same.

Finishing off the bottle, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and for a moment thought she saw blood. Luna stared at her hand, blinking in disbelief, and then suddenly the blood was gone.

This wasn't the first time it had happened, and nor would it be the last.

After Mason had dismissed Luna, she found Cito waiting for her outside the backstage doors. His presence had startled her, for Luna had not expected him to wait for her. Then again, Luna suspected she had sort of imprinted on him somehow.

"Was I gone too long?" She asked, trying not to slur, and squinting up at him, the setting sun blinding her slightly after being inside for so long.

"No, not long." He claimed through slightly staggered English. Cito had improved significantly in the week that Luna had been teaching him, which made her happy, and feel accomplished somewhat.

A low growl broke the growing silence between the two, making Cito look surprised, and maybe even a little bit concerned.

"Was that you?" He asked, gesturing at Luna's stomach.

Realizing she hadn't eaten since this morning, and drank half a bottle of whiskey, Luna blushed and ducked her head, grumbling out an affirmative to Cito's question.

Without waiting a second longer, Cito grabbed Luna's hand, and lead her to what used to be the concession stand, now turned food and ammunition's stockpile. It was guarded by two Pack members, who looked extremely bored.

Luna was still unsure of how the food was managed. Sometimes a Pack member would dole out portions, other times anyone with a collar had to line up with whatever dish they could find and eat off of - and they had to do it fast or they wouldn't get their daily ration. And some days there was no food for the captives, at all, if they were hungry enough some would dig through the heaps of trash that lined the walls, and littered the buildings, in search of something still edible.

Awkwardly, Luna waited near a barren junk-wall, while Cito approached the Pack members.

"If you're looking for scraps, they're all gone." One Raider rasped, taking another drag from his ancient, crooked cigarette.

The other raider, a female, sneered, "Dinner was hours ago. Now beat it!" She emphasized the last part by palming her brightly painted pink baseball bat, threateningly.

Luna knew the two Pack members were lying, but there was nothing her or Cito could do about it. Unfortunately the whiskey would be all Luna consumed, until hopefully sometime tomorrow. At least the booze, and Cito, would keep her warm through the cold night.

Charon and MacCready trekked across the dry and barren wasteland, in the general direction of Nuka World. The vast, sun-bleached brick walls were just a blur when they had started walking from the transit station at dusk, and now they were slightly clearer, though still vague.

Around midnight, they both began to tire, as it had already been a long day. They had awoke before dawn, the day before, in order to make good time, and hopefully catch up to The Gunners who'd taken Luna, or even just to find fresh tracks. Unfortunately the only thing they had found was a long cold fire pit, and some old boot prints.

MacCready nodded in the direction of a rusty van that looked to be nothing more than a shell of its former self. Upon further inspection though, they found an abandoned duffel bag containing a couple cartons of dirty water and prewar food. The back of the van even had the remnants of a stained mattress with a straw pillow and shredded blanket.

"Flip you for it!" MacCready challenged, excitedly. It had been a while since he'd last slept on an actual mattress, in fact the last time was that night at the Rexford.

Charon grinned, his milky blue eyes crinkled in the corners. "Alright.", he rasped.

Producing a bottle cap from his pocket, MacCready flipped it up in the air, caught it with one hand and slapped it down on the back of his other hand. He looked up at Charon, prompting the ghoul to call his choice.

"Tails."

MacCready laughed, for he didn't need to move his hand to see the outcome, he could feel the sharp ridges of the cap pressing into his skin. "It's heads!" he declared merrily, showing the cap to Charon.

"I guess I'll take first watch then." stated Charon, nonplussed, slipping his bag down his shoulder to land in the dirt with a cloud of dust.

Their first night in the Nuka World district was thankfully uneventful, unlike the following weeks.

Charon and MacCready faced a fresh new Hell every other day while they were here. Cave Crickets, bloodworms, swarms of ferals, new raider clans, massive Deathclaws, and Gatorclaws. Though on some days these monsters were the least of their worries, as MacCready constantly faced radiation poisoning, and dehydration. Meanwhile, Charon struggled with demons of his own, constantly haunting his dreams and while he was awake. The horrors he has seen, while in the employ of contract holders - and no.

The faces of his victims, their screams, the blood, the humiliation would never be forgotten.

The only light that Charon could see at the end of the tunnel, was the fact that Dr. Amari had helped rid him of the contract, and the brainwashing along with it. Although, she could not have helped with the memories, nor PTSD. He had to work his way through that on his own.

All of these things only served to delay and reroute their journey to Nuka Town. Where it should have only taken the pair a handful of days to walk there, it had now taken nearly a month. That fact alone caused both MacCready and Charon unending anxiety as to the fate of Luna in this time.

The month, Luna couldn't remember which it was, had finally come to an end. This meant Cito was deemed fit to be released from his collar and initiated into the Pack as one of their own.

The only problem was, where did that leave Luna? She had been his teacher, and his friend. They had become very close in their time together, so much so that Luna was no longer bothered by him seeing her change her clothes, or bathe. It helped that he was easy on the eyes, and kind. But as of late, Luna found herself having trouble keeping her eyes off of Cito, and Mason, for that matter. Do these feelings have something to do with my monthly bleeding?, Luna thought, recalling all the other times she had felt this way just a short while before her bleeding began. Though it was only feelings, she had never really met very many people - living in a cave in the Glowing Sea prevented many travelers from coming through. Not to mention, Virgil usually did most of the trading with the locals.
And yet, she had still managed to meet Tyler, MacCready, and the dreamy Anders - who, she was sure, had long forgotten her by now.

The last few days had been a particular struggle, as Luna would mumble an excuse and then race to another room where she would splash cold water on her face, from a rusty bucket, just to sober herself up from seeing all those finely developed muscles, and tanned skin. Or, during the long and restless nights, Luna would silently touch herself, seeking to ease the arousal she felt, while snuggled deep inside her sleeping bag. She was always careful not to move too much or make any sounds, for fear Cito would hear and wake up.

Cito, who rarely wore anything but his loinclothe, had suddenly begun wearing regular pants, and boots - though he remained topless.

And when it came to Mason, Lord have mercy on her soul, Luna didn't even try to look away when she spotted him shirtless, lacking his regular bone neckless, and face paint. She often wondered why he would bother covering up his face, when he was so handsome.

A shadow suddenly hovered over Luna, breaking her thoughts, and blocking the sunlight she needed to finish with mending the slave rags she had been given a few weeks ago, despite having given up on actually sewing, and just stared off into space thinking about Mason's naked body.

Glancing up, Luna used her hand to try and block the glare of the sun, that prevented her from seeing the man's face who cast such a fine silhouette.

"Are you ready for tonight?" came Mason's husky voice, his tone suggestive. Speak of the devil.

Luna had no idea what he was talking about, "What?" she croaked out, already fearing that he had somehow heard her thoughts.

Crouching down, Mason was now eye level with Luna and no longer just a dark figure, backed by the sun. He placed his large, warm hand on her thigh to steady himself, and repeated his question.

"Are you ready for tonight? Cito's initiation."

Luna didn't hear his words, but was instead hyper aware of his hand on her thigh. After a few seconds, his words finally sunk in and realization slapped Luna in the face, shocking her into responding.
"I forgot!" She proclaimed, embarrassment colouring Luna's cheeks and neck crimson. Cito was her friend and she had forgotten today was the day he would have his collar removed, and here she was currently fantasizing about Mason touching her everywhere. Mentally shaking herself, Luna forced her focus back to the matter at hand; Cito's initiation, and Mason's question.

Scrunching up her face in confusion, Luna asked, "Why would I need to be ready? What am I supposed to do?"

Her question seemed to amuse Mason, and was enough of an answer for him, that he stood up and walked away; grinning like a madman.

Once Cito's collar was removed, what would that mean for Luna's plan to escape? Would he help her, or would he become loyal only to the Pack?