Well, shoot. Looks like I got us lost…again. I guess that's the last time I try to explore without the Pip-Boy! C'mon, let's head back to town and get a beer, and tomorrow I'll screw my head on straight…after I take my shot with that waitress!
A mess of blonde hair, scraggly atop a sunburnt face splashed with freckles and an everlasting grin. Charon grunted at the memory, shaking the boy from his mind. Now wasn't the time or place to be harboring regrets towards his past employer, when he was just struggling in keeping his basic sanity with his new one.
Yo, Charon! Check this out! Wanna see if I can pitch this baseball off that mutant's head? I was the top little leaguer in the Vault, Amata used to say I-
QUIET! He clenched his jaw so hard he almost cracked a tooth. Damn that kid, worming under his skin, infecting him like he had the dozens of countless others back in the Capital. Damn him…damn him for being so fucking selfless, dying for a dream instilled in him by his absent father.
"Charon." Evelyn's voice cut through the fog of his mind like a sharp sword, but she couldn't replace the freckled face from leaving her shoulders. "I am going to Braxton, whether you want me to or not." She had her arms crossed and was giving him that scolding glare, but he could tell she was tired. Exhausted, even. Her puffy eyes and splotched face attested to that. "If you don't want to come, I will give your contract to anyone of your choosing, and I'll make-"
The sentence never had a chance to leave her mouth as the ghoul swiftly came inches from her and had engulfed her shoulders with his massive hands. "Evelyn," he rasped, satisfied to see her snap fully to his attention. "I will not leave you; so don't leave me."
That mop of blonde overshadowed her tumble of tawny. Those mischievous brown eyes glinting at him from those deep ocean-blues. The words that whispered off her pink tongue completed the vision.
"Alright, I won't leave you, big guy…"
You and me, the dynamic duo of the Capital Wasteland! Hurry ladies, single for a limited time only!
He gave a shuddering sigh of relief, relaxing his hold on her person and angling away from her.
"Charon, you've never acted like this before…what's going on with you?" Her eyes were troubled now, and she seemed genuinely worried for him. He sucked in a breath and didn't meet her gaze, reforming that perfect mask of stone. "You can talk to me, you know."
"When do you wish to leave?" His voice was kept completely neutral.
The words crushed her; he could see it in her face. But it was better off her not knowing his issues and conflicting emotions. It could be dangerous; for both of them. The last thing he wanted was to carry her ghost around, too.
"I…I don't know," she answered honestly, bringing a gloved hand up and rubbing the lightly tanned skin on the back of her neck. She lifted her left wrist up at him. "Pip-Boy is still broken, and no one else even knew Braxton existed," she informed him lamely.
A grunt. He was glad, then. A wild goose chase, searching for clues on how to reach the city was much better than undergoing the growing dread of them encroaching the place. Maybe she would finally grow tired of the endeavor and give up whatever mission she tasked herself.
She bit her full lower lip, a sight that warranted more than a few unwanted interests from men in their travels together.
Oh no. It was her dead give-away for I have an idea, but you're not going to like it.
"No," he grunted.
She gave him a confused expression. "Wh- I didn't even say anything yet!"
He chastised her with a gloved finger. "You're thinking of something unreasonable."
Two hands exploded out to her sides, waving dramatically. "It's not unreasonable, it's a plan!"
Charon expelled an irritated sigh.
"Fuck no." Cross didn't even want to look at her face. It was dangerous, women asking him for things they wanted. Especially ones that had big eyes and pouty lips, never mind this one still had fucking skin. He flicked the ash of his cigarette into the metal tray. "Go home and forget about her, kid." Easy words coming from someone like me…
"What's your price? 100 caps, 500 caps?" She was rummaging around in her pack. A heavy bag dropped at his elbow. "1,000?"
"Jesus, put that away before someone tries and rob you." The ghoul slid her offer back with his good forearm. "And I said, no. Are you deaf, or just stupid?"
"Neither. I'm persistent."
That earned a cynical chuckle, and he waved her off with his good hand.
She stowed the caps away and hesitated before leaving him alone at the bar counter. "Why did you come out this morning to talk?"
"I didn't," he growled at her. "Doc wouldn't let me smoke in the clinic; you two just happened to be outside with me."
"Oh yeah, three blocks down the street just happens to be outside."
Cross flicked his lighter a few times, watching the sparks fly on the counter. "You're a snarky bitch, you know that?"
A predatory smile glinted at him. It was something akin to a wild cat. "I know."
He mentally groaned at himself. There's no way in hell I'm stepping foot back in that shithole. "Fine…" He stowed his lighter back into his jacket pocket, the sling for his arm forcing him to drape the one half over his right shoulder. "Fine…I'll take you to Braxton."
Evelyn's smile grew wider and she ignored her employee's hand on her shoulder; his way of telling her his feelings otherwise.
She had to be completely crazy.
"So, just a three-week journey, huh?" Evelyn twirled a little bit on her toes, then hopped over a piece of concrete. Her energy was completely different from before. Almost like she was damn happy to be walking towards inevitable death. "No sweat."
The bounty hunter grunted as he lifted his newly mended arm over his head in a stretch. As he felt the muscles in his neck pop, he gave a sigh of relief and caught the vehement stare of Charon boring into his skull. Well, can't say I really blame the bastard…
"So, how did she rope you into all of this?" the ashen-colored ghoul inquired of his fellow man.
Charon didn't answer; just kept his thousand-yard death stare.
"I hired him," Evelyn offered simply, taking the end of her braid and chewing on the end.
She's like a damn kid now.
"Huh." Cross reached his hand inside his jacket. "For what? Can't imagine it was for protection…" His ribcage was still slightly tender.
"Is smoking bad for ghouls?" She redirected the conversation, watching the way he lit the cigarette in his mouth. She blinked at him, then looked to Charon. "I've never seen you smoke, Charon."
An oversized rock was in her path, and she tripped on it. An oof escaped her lips as she plopped down hard on her tailbone. Charon merely bent down and grabbed her forearm, setting her up easily back on her feet.
It was unexpected to Cross, seeing a smoothskin like herself so comfortable with…with something like that. Like him. It surfaced unpleasant memories, and he shoved them back into the confines of his mind. They had a strange relationship, and he ventured it something to be more than just "hired help".
"Do you want one?" He rattled his pack at her, and he received a grimace as thanks.
"Bleh. The smoke usually gives me a headache." A single finger was brought to her pale, pink lips. "Although, I sometimes like the smell on people. It's almost like it makes them familiar, you know?" She then gave him the widest smile he had ever seen her make, and her sea-sprayed eyes seemingly glowed up at him.
He felt his dead heart give a small thud.
WHAT, NO.
It wasn't his fault; to his credit, he hadn't been around a woman like her in a very, very long time. It wasn't fair! Here was this beautiful creature, treating him like another honest man. Not like a ghoul, or a monster. Just…a person, for God's sake.
He mentally chastised himself. She almost killed you, remember? But that sentiment just somehow made it worse. She had twirled around and was continuing on along in front of them, a quiet hum in her throat.
The feeling of inherent danger made his skin crawl, and his head darted around to Charon's face holding the most hateful glare he had ever seen in a man. Those eyes were like pits of blue flames.
The Ferryman of Styx was coming for him.
But he couldn't help the feeling that was embedded in his chest now, like a goddamn cazador had pierced him in the heart. With a tip of his head back, the bounty hunter exhaled out a long drag and narrowed his own eyes at the ghoul in return.
It was going to be a long three weeks.
