A/N: More sex towards the end of the chapter. And the stanza of poetry is by WB Yeats When You Are Old. The last line of this chapter is quoted from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.

The hours passed.

The sun tracked their journey; their first impasse a few molerats scavenging from their burrow, their wrinkly, pink skin visible on the horizon. Evelyn struggled at practicing her aim with the rifle, wasting all three shots.

The mercenary snorted at her poor marksmanship. "Couldn't hit water if you fell out of a boat."

The rifle was reloaded angrily, and she thrust it at him. "Fine, let's see you do any better. It's windy." Her face was ruddy from embarrassment.

The merc accepted her challenge, eyeing the mutated vermin through the scope before turning and walking back a considerable distance the way they had come. He then veered left and continued.

"What the fuck is he doing? That's way too far of a shot to take." Evelyn questioned uncertainly. "Right?"

Charon said nothing. He mentally wondered if the bounty hunter could pull off the shot, if what he deduced was correct.

They watched in silence as Cross laid down, setting the rifle into position. A few minutes passed as Evelyn was about to voice her doubts again when the volley screamed past. Both heads turned as the bullet whizzed straight through all three molerats, their position nearly a straight line from the merc's site.

The mercenary returned to them, relinquishing the sniper rifle with a smug smirk. "You're right; it was windy."

"Shut up." Evelyn bit out, laying out the wrapping. "I'm just better close range."

Both had different interpretations to that statement, and the merc dropped his knowing smile when she glowered at him.

He cleared his throat, fishing for a cigarette.

They continued on without any more distractions, the sandy outcropping of the wastes evolving slowly into a forestry landscape.

"Alright, right around here should be…there." The merc indicated to an incredibly faded regional park sign, graffiti colorfully reading HARKS PARK- DONT FEED YOW GUYS

"I'm reading this three different ways," Evelyn muttered to herself.

"There's a cabin a few miles in- it's pretty secluded." The merc stepped over a dead thicket, the branches crunching loudly under his weight. "Stop there for the night."

"Yeah, secluded." She provoked him, grinning as he sighed crossly. "Bet these raiders will be in for a nasty surprise."

"It'll give you a chance for more target practice." Cross watched a rock sail by a foot from his face. "On second thought, stick to that close range."

Evelyn was already marching alone into the forest, leaving both ghouls in her wake.

Cross cupped his mouth with both hands. "Wrong way…still the wrong way…damnit woman-there are yao guai in these woods."

It took an hour of traversing through the forest until the cabin came into view, and the trio crouched behind cover to assess the situation thoroughly this time. Nothing appeared to have disturbed the area around the abandoned ranger station for quite some time, so Charon delegated it upon himself to scope out the building more thoroughly.

Once the ferryman had disappeared inside, the mercenary stole a glance beside himself. Evelyn's eyes were muddled with worry as they stared at the empty doorway her bodyguard had previously been; her bottom lip being ravaged as she chewed on it.

It had been a while since they were finally alone again.

"He'll be fine." The ghoul grumbled, reaching down and cupping her chin to redirect her gaze.

She gave a small nod, and the rosy blossoming of the skin around her lower lip stood out to him. Without a second thought, he bent down and kissed her firmly, his other hand coming around to encircle around her neck, his dark grey thumb stroking her clavicle.

Her lips moved with his for a few moments, before she pulled back from him. "Are you serious?! Not right now!" She hissed, removing his hold on her and returning her attention back to the cabin.

The ferryman reappeared only a minute after; motioning for them to advance.

The bounty hunter just grumbled irately as she parkoured over their cover, his eyes tracking her hurried steps. With a gruff snort, he got to his feet and followed after them.

The ranger station had been previously scavenged many a time, now its only purpose serving as an adequate shelter from the elements of nature. There was ruined furniture in some places against the walls; a fizzed-out terminal that had not been powered in decades. Someone before them had placed candles around to offer meager lighting; the wax from several having dripped all over the floor.

"Charming," Evelyn said, removing her heavy pack from her shoulders. With a thud, the pack landed on a tired floorboard; its sigh reverberating around the room. "At least nobody's home this time."

"There's a small lake on the east side of this place; water's fuckin' cold but it's rad-free." The merc dropped his own bag beside hers, sauntering to a rotted framed window and shutting it closed. The splintering of dead wood coated his rough hands, and he sailed his palms against each other. "No mirelurks, this time."

A miffed puff of air dispelled behind him. "Good. I don't want to chance your cooking again."

The merc chuckled. "I'm goin' to check out the waters, just to be sure."

"You're bruised." The ferryman acknowledged, his ignorance of the situation making itself known. His hand swiped at her jacket and he gently pulled it down to reveal more of the purple skin on her neck. "What happened?"

"Must have been when I fell…earlier." Her face was prominently bright red, and her voice slightly trembled.

The hand fell away. "You are a horrible liar."

She looked away for just a moment, and he turned to the side to track her gaze. Even if she wouldn't verbally tell him, her body language always sung like a golden canary. His eyes landed on the backside of the bounty hunter in the distance.

"Did he hurt you?" The tone of his voice was so murderous Evelyn instinctively drew back.

"No-he didn't hurt me." No lie, there. "We-uh-got together…"

He grunted and shook his head, his mind stubbornly refusing to make sense of it. "What?"

"We had sex, okay?" She snapped; her stance awkward. "Jesus."

The epiphany at her words felt like a solid punch to the gut. The ghoul worked his mouth open to speak, and then slammed it shut so forcefully it startled her. Without saying another word, he turned away from her and marched resolutely into the forest to disappear.

The silence he left behind was deafening.

Evelyn huffed to herself angrily at his departure, an unease worming into her gut. He made it seem as though she had betrayed him, somehow. The notion didn't make sense, and she exhaled loudly, imagining her inner turmoil expelling with it.

The merc was still off at the edge of the lake, oblivious to the drama that was being played without him. Evelyn shoved her hands in the pockets of her leathers and squinted at his enormous figure.

His hands had found purchase on the windowsill of her tower, and she could not find it in her to push him back out.

With a sad sigh, she began back towards the cabin just as he was turning to stare after her.

Night had fallen, and the temperature followed suit. A cloud of air was made visible as Evelyn childishly imagined herself as some great creature born of myths; the expenditure of her deep breathing making her lightheaded.

The steam she produced fogged up the window she was staring through; the angst she felt earlier gnawing at her like hounds at their bones.

Charon had refused to converse with her unless absolutely necessary, and he had appointed himself to guard the station from an appropriate distance outside. She did not know what to say to him at this point, and any anger she managed to summon was merely washed away like a cold tide.

Footsteps sounded behind her; the floorboards creaking under Cross's weight to announce his company. "Is he comin' inside? It's fuckin' freezin' out there."

"No." Evelyn simply responded, taking the tip of her index finger and drawing two eyes and a mouth on the fogged pane. It was frowning. "He says he's fine…I told him about us."

The merc blew out a breath. "Surprised he hasn't shot me."

"He won't shoot you." She replied curtly. "He's just…he's just Charon."

Cross didn't immediately say anything, and Evelyn could hear the familiar rattle of his cigarette carton. "How did you two meet, anyways?"

The shrick of his lighter filled the space of her words, and she reflected back while drumming her fingers along the windowsill. "How did you get that scar?"

She tore her gaze away from the pitch-black of the world to regard him. His eyes were slits; the wavering candlelight giving off an eerie illumination.

"Is this a tit-for-tat question?" His gravelly voice growled, snake-like smoke curling around the holes of his nostrils.

The abrupt hostility made her bristle, and she brushed past him. "Forget I asked."

A strong forearm enveloped around her waist, and she shot him a warning glance. However, his eyes were fully closed, and he reached his free hand up to balance his cigarette between his middle and index finger. A swirl of white haze was artfully blown to the side, and when he finally opened his eyelids, those hazel irises were despondent.

"It's somethin' I don't care for." Was all he offered. "And I like to keep it that way."

Evelyn blushed from his attentions, the memory of the previous day bursting to the forefront of her mind as his purchase on her tightened. Those fingers had gone rogue and were exploring across her waist, finally coming to a stop when she laid a hand on his bicep.

"Sorry, then." She apologized. After a moment of consideration, she tipped herself upwards on her toes and planted her lips on his mouth; he removed his hand from her abdomen to grasp the back of her head securely in his palm.

With a light push on his chest, she broke away from him and was met with his mused expression.

"I have to know something. I'll be right back." The words only deepened his mystified look, and she felt his stare dig into her back as she jogged outside to greet the cold, night air.

You always were selfish. You cannot have it all.

She knew that, she did. It was human nature, to want. And it was her conflicting emotions that drove her deeper into the encapsulating darkness. She was stepping into the mouth of the open-world blindly, and it greedily swallowed her whole.

You are just going to lose everything this way.

"Charon!" She whispered loudly, hoping the ghoul was somewhere nearby and that she wasn't indirectly attracting something predatory. "Ch-"

"What is it?" His voice precisely answered her from behind, and she nearly jumped a foot in the air. "What's wrong? I saw you running."

There was concern in his garbled tone, and it almost made her cry. Without explaining her situation, she turned to face him and threw her arms around his torso in a desperate embrace.

His hands went to remove her from himself, but she wouldn't budge. "Evelyn, what is the matter?" His tenor was laced with panic now, and he could see she was in grief. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know." She whimpered at him. "I don't want you to hate me."

Charon processed her words, then sighed aggravatedly. "I do not hate you." He informed her in his monosyllabic tone. "What is this about? You are acting like a child."

Evelyn, stop acting like a child. You're smarter than that; don't let anything get the better of you. What did Socrates say? 'To find yourself, think for yourself.'…yes, that's right.

"Then why did you leave like that?" She muffled into his armor, her fingers digging into his leather straps. "Why are you ignoring me, like this? Why do you abhor me being with Cross so much?"

"Please let go of me." That raspy voice demanded. "Evelyn."

She shook her head, deeply inhaling the scent of gunpowder laced inside his clothes. "Not until you tell me."

Ugh. Charon relented, his hands resting gingerly on her shoulders. A few seconds passed as he mulled over his thoughts. "He does not deserve you." He finally admitted, feeling her head turn to look up at him. She was blind in the dark, but he could make out her furrowed brows and parted lips.

"Was that a joke?"

"No." He grunted, forcibly trying to will away the growing anguish in the pit of his stomach. The only outlet he found for it was in his attitude. "Now will you release me?"

"Why?" She breathed into him. "I…like him."

Charon was becoming increasingly pissed, now. He didn't dare make a move against her, though, and it's not like he very much wanted to. There were other faces that came to mind.

"He's a ghoul." Charon ironically stated. "He's also a contracted killer, and a womanizer."

Evelyn chortled, her body vibrating against him pleasantly as she laughed into the night. "Seriously? You're a ghoul, and a contracted killer." She tightened her hold on him. "I guess I just have a type."

The words twisted into him in a bizarre fashion, and he did not like the way it made him feel. "Evelyn, it is cold. You should go back inside." He could feel her shivering from the night air, and his arms instinctively wrapped around her. "I will guide you back."

When he had finally freed himself from her clutches, he brought her back to the steps of the cabin; a gentle push nudging her to the door. "Do not come back out by yourself; it is not safe."

And then he left her alone to rejoin the abyss of the world that he knew best.

Evelyn, you have such talent for so many things, and yet you have been wasting your finite time sleeping the day away. What is wrong with you?

"What's wrong with you?" Cross was seated at a table, a half-burned cigarette in his hand. "You ran out on me like I was the devil himself." He leaned back in his chair and rapped his knuckles along the surface. "Although, I think the devil is just outside our door."

You have to realize the world is made of blood. It is a river, drowning all of those who do not have the toll to pay. Do you wish to spend 100 years of it on the shoreline, like everyone else?

"Are you okay?" The merc grated, concerned. "Hey."

She snapped her attention to him, and she realized she was in the foyer still, clutching at the doorknob. Her fist relaxed, and a clank on the floor made them both look down at her feet. She had subconsciously crushed the knob off its handle.

"Are you afraid of me?" She unexpectedly asked, her voice carrying across the room to him. The words were sharp and full of doubt; he had to catch them quickly to comprehend what she had said.

He was eyeing her judiciously, his face half lost in that shimmering haze. It was difficult to read his thoughts. "No." Was all he said, and he took a drag.

They cannot understand you. You are not like them.

No, Mother. I cannot understand them.

Her fingers worked deftly at her braid, and she let loose the tumble of curls to softly tickle the skin of her neck.

Because they are like me.

With each step she took forward, she discarded an article of clothing and simply let it melt to the floor until she was standing before him completely naked, her wavy hair like a shimmering halo in the candlelight.

"And bending down beside the glowing bars," She planted her palms into his chest, her voice just above a light whisper. "Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled-"

The ghoul was completely enthralled at her spontaneous affections, his breath hitching in his chest as she gracefully climbed atop him. "And paced upon the mountains overhead-"

She grabbed at his hands, and gently kissed his knuckles. "And hid his face amid a crowd of stars."

Her eyes were seemingly endless, and he found himself falling so far into them he feared he would not know how to climb out.

He had lied; he was now terrified.

When her lips met his so sensually, he felt his mind succumb to nothingness, and he could taste the cold air of night upon her tongue.

Holy shit. Was the only coherent thought he could manage.

The tables were so violently turned from the previous occasion; she was much more confident in her dealings with him. He was bare-chested, the upper half of his clothes tossed to the side, but she halted him when he went to go and undo his pant buckles.

"Not yet," She whispered lustfully in his mouth, breathing hot air down his throat. Her hands were exploring his body like a burnt, ruined roadmap; she traced the dark exposed veins and ashen-colored muscles that he was now comprised of. He practically had no skin left whatsoever, and he suddenly felt extremely self-conscious at her focused nature. "Look at me."

Those fingers were now tracing his jawline, and he forced his hazy eyes to meet with hers. Her lips graced across his face, softly planting them over his scar; trailing from his forehead down to his lower cheek, a virgin pilgrimage down the river of Jordan.

When she crossed over to his mouth, she bit where his lower lip would have been, and then proceeded to kiss him slowly.

Her hands were down at his groin, and she was painstakingly undressing him without breaking away. When he finally felt himself become free, she came apart and rose up and away from him, leaning against the table.

"I think you owe me for the other day." She said huskily.

The yellow and orange flames that enlightened her outline made her appear ethereal, and he felt his hands shake slightly as he worked at unlacing his boots. He removed them roughly, going to stand and letting his pants drop to the floor. After he had stepped out of them, he came to stand before her fully exposed like herself, and he was breathing heavily.

He was almost afraid to touch her, as though she would ignite in a spark of flames and disappear in a swirl of smoke. "Turn around."

She obeyed, those witchy eyes finally freeing his person. The spell had been broken, and he pulled at the hot fires roiling in his belly as he grabbed her. She gave a hushed yelp as he gripped her right kneecap and lifted it to rest on the table, a testament to her flexibility as she kept the position without complaint.

The exposed area between her thighs was dripping, and he bent himself at the knees slightly to enter inside of her. She gave a breathy noise of pleasure, and he quickly resolved himself to not get carried away.

He brought his hands around; one cupping her breast and the other reaching down to her clitoris. He circled his thumb over the wet swollen lump while playing with her nipple and pumping into her tactically.

Fuck. He may not last again, after all, and it had only been a few minutes. The moaning and shivering she was producing were enough to make his head explode. She was arching her back into him, and her free breast was slapping loudly against her chest. Goddamn.

She gave a high-pitched gasp, and she suddenly felt extremely hot and the grip around his cock was mind-numbing. Thank God. He increased the pressure of his thumb down below just slightly, and her entire body began to quiver as she cried out.

He wasn't going to let her down for a second time, if he could help it, but he was damn glad she came as fast as she did. With a groan, he railed away into her and felt himself beginning to peak.

She whimpered loudly as her orgasm was soon supplicated with his own, the feeling of his thick girth pulsating inside of her an ecstasy of itself. When they had both finished, she felt his fingers dig into her ass as he pulled himself out, and he shuddered violently.

Her raised foot came back to the bare floorboards, and she turned around to face him. Her fingers encircled around his face, and her half-lucid eyes were staring into the fog of his own. She bent his face down and kissed his forehead as he brought his hands up to embrace her forearms.

Her lips gently brushed over his scar. "Thus with a kiss, I die."