She did not come to retrieve the ferryman until the break of dawn the next day; when she had emerged, he stared at her with the utmost attention, but she did not care to meet his eyes or speak a word to him. Frustratingly, he shadowed her out of the hotel and to the security department, where she finally turned to address him.

"Go wait there." A single digit was pointed to the wall outside of Chief Cooper's door, her voice cracking. She then turned and went inside, and the ferryman was delegated to his spot.

His thick index finger nearly tapped a hole through his bicep, and as the sound of the door finally opened, he immediately hawked in on his employer rushing past him; her eyes averted his hungry gaze. His foot took a step behind her and he heard a whistle. Quickly turning his head to address the sound, he froze in motion as Cooper waved his stained contract at him. "Let's talk."

Charon blinked stupidly for a moment, his head spinning like an owl to watch Evelyn disappear from the building. He snapped back to his new employer. "Please, wait a moment. I shall return." And with that, he quickly caught up to her as she was making her way around the bend outside. He was not honor-bound to her anymore, and he did not have to care for personal boundaries. He grabbed at her shoulder and spun her around. "Evelyn, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like, Charon?" she cried up at him, her face ruddy with emotion. "I…I think this is for the best."

The words punched loudly in his chest. "What? Why am I not coming with you?"

Her face was distraught with conflict, and she rubbed her hand across her mouth. "I…I don't think our partnership can work like this."

There was a vicious snarl, and he angrily flexed his hands into fists. "Did the bounty hunter put this up to you?"

"NO," she snapped, and there was a loud sniff as she wiped away the snot running down her nose. "Charon-you…you almost died back-"

"But I didn't." He had her backed up against the side of the building, his arm raised over her. He had completely engulfed her image from the world. "It is my duty to die for you; that is our partnership. Do not replace me with him."

"I'm not replacing you!" Evelyn sobbed. "I-I do want you with me, Charon! But…what-you said-we did-"

The ghoul then swathed her in a tight embrace; his hands encircled around the back of her head as her tears melted onto his chest. When they broke apart, she was breathing hotly over him. "I will always want you safe, Evelyn. Please, take me back."

"I don't know if I can," her voice broke, and she was trembling under his touch. Those rugged thumbs came to lay against her cheeks, wiping away her tears.

"Will my absence make you happy?" His tone had become completely neutral, and she enclosed her hands around his wrists. "He…he is capable, of protecting you. If being with him is what you wish, I only ask that you be careful."

She leaned forward and cried loudly into him, clutching onto him like a small child. "I-fuck Charon."

For a few moments they said nothing more, and he just held her gently as she drowned her sorrows into him. With a firm kiss atop of her head, he finally held her away from himself and gave a sad sigh. "I do not wish to see you upset. This is the choice you have made. As long as I am in service here, I will wait for you."

He then spun on his heel and strode away.

Evelyn watched him leave, her heart thumping painfully to the beat of his steps.

He was gone.


When the merc had awoken, this time he was the one alone in bed. His hand had automatically reached out, and upon finding nothing, he quickly sat upright and spun around. Her things were still tucked away next to his, and he released the breath he had been subconsciously holding. Rubbing his face, he got up and went to the bathroom to piss. He was gathering his clothes when he found the folded note on the table, and he nabbed at it hastily. You sometimes snore so LOUD I'm surprised the dead are still in their graves. Then again, there is you. Beneath the lettering was a crude, childish drawing of his face. He snorted.

The door flew open, and he waved the crinkled message at her. "Very funny, what-hey." He paused as she braced against the door, visibly upset. His face contorted into alarm. "What the fuck's wrong?"

Her bottom lip quivered uncontrollably, and she burst into tears. "I-I…I think I just made a huge mistake." She inhaled shakily. "IjustletCharongo."

What?

"Whoa, whoa…what?" The merc coughed. "Did somethin' happen between you two?"

She took a seat at the small table, her body quivering. "We…we almost died…back in Serrato. I saw him-I saw-" The tears rained down upon her hands as she stared down into her lap, unable to meet his eyes. "I-I…have decided to leave him behind. I couldn't-" The words were choked in her throat as she sobbed; she did not care to wipe away her mourning.

She was upset, and so much so that it obviously destroyed her. Did…did she have more than just attachments to her prior bodyguard, to be so hysterical over his termination of service? Cross honestly really fucking hoped not. He wouldn't know what to do with that. The bounty hunter stood there awkwardly, unsure of how to console her over the loss. In all selfish honesty, the merc was kind of glad the hulking ghoul was gone; there was only bad blood between the two, and he did not think they would ever come to terms with one another.

"Tradin' one ghoul for another, huh?" As soon as the quip left his mouth, he wished he would have rather shot himself in the foot. The look she gave him was absolutely murderous. "Bad joke. He was a good bodyguard."

"I just don't want him to die because of me."

"So, I get the fall instead?" The ashtray frisbeed at his head, narrowly missing him. It tore into the opposite wall with a thunk. The billowing cloud of ash dusted on his person.

"You weren't there!" The grief was slowly transforming into anger, and it almost made the ghoul thankful. That, was something he could work with. "We've always had close calls before, but, God, I seriously thought I watched him die."

The ghoul shook the ashes from himself. "And what if he had?"

She stood from the chair abruptly, causing it to skid and fall over backward. "Why would you fucking say something like that?!" The air almost shimmered from her fury.

"Exactly," the merc drawled out. He looked down at his sooty torso and grumbled; he would need another shower. "You're over thinkin' of the what if's; it's the fuckin' wasteland, you can die at any time. But he didn't, and neither did you. You're both alive, so leave it at that."

"But-"

A loud sigh. "Look, if you're goin' to be a nervous wreck over it, then just go get him back… or at least quit bitchin' about it."

She sniffed and looked to the floor; her arms defiantly crossed over her chest. It gave him the impression of chastising a child. With a roll of his eyes, he lumbered over to her and cupped her cheek in his palm.

She sneezed from the tobacco ash, gingerly laying a finger on his wrist and pushing it away from her face. "Ew, you're covered. Don't touch me."

"Not my damn fault," he grunted, blinking back at the ashtray firmly set in the wall. "Lucky you didn't kill me."

"I didn't miss intentionally."

Those milky hazels became slits. His broad shoulders rolled back in a shrug, and then he enfolded her into his chest, rubbing his face against hers as he smudged the cigarette residue all over her person. She shrieked in disgust, and before she could push him away, he simply lifted her over his shoulder and carried her into the bathroom; the sound of the shower drowned her gripes.


"So, took the job after all, huh?" A waft of smoke was blown to the side, catching a ride along the frigid breeze. Emerald eyes looked upward at the ferryman, squinting.

Charon just stretched in his spot, feeling his spine crack pleasingly. He did not care to look down at the deputy.

"Clara." A gloved hand was held out, and he grumbled as he gave it a polite shake.

The silence stretched, and he thought that would be the end of it until he heard a cough. "It's Charon, right?" The ferryman did not respond in any way, and Deputy Jenkins just rolled her eyes and began her patrol. "Whatever."

It had been six hours. Six hours, since Evelyn had disappeared from his life. He had watched them make their way from the city, the bounty hunter always too close against her for his liking…but that was not his concern, anymore. He was now in service to Chief Cooper; he was enrolled into the CFP as an invaluable member. A highly experienced combat and weapon specialist, along with the perk of never needing sleep, Charon was the perfect candidate as a sentry and militia guard. Charon did not care for his position, although the hours of constant solitude with the freedom of roving the perimeter outside suited him just fine. But that did not matter, in the long run. He knew she would be back for him, however long it took for her to return.

She had to come back for him…didn't she?


The duo had made slow, steady progress in their journey. The weather was beginning to turn nasty; gray, thundering storm clouds rolled through the later day, forcing them to seek shelter from the pelting cold rain. Both were completely drenched by the time they sought refuge inside a decrepit gas station. There was no electricity, but an oil lamp and a musty bedroll had been left behind.

Cross went to work and sliced the sleeping bag into strips, dousing the paper-thin sheets with some lamp oil to catch a flame. His striker and knife blew sparks in the darkness of the building, a small fire coming to light. Some more dried material was added, and soon the pair was drowning in the warm light. The smoke wafted strategically through a slat in the side of the wall they had settled beside.

Evelyn shivered violently, baring to her underwear and laying out her clothes. She unpacked her bedroll, verbally disappointed in its soaked condition along with the majority of their things. Carefully, she laid everything out to dry, and finally sat down and hugged herself.

"Cold?" Cross joked. He had stripped his jacket, opting to keep his lower half clothed. "C'mere."

She did not need convincing. She settled into his lap and relished his hot torso flush against her back. His arms came down to wrap around her, and she nestled into him greedily. "All we need is a drink."

He barked out a laugh, the raspy chortle bouncing off the walls. "I've got some scotch in my bag if you want some."

"I said a drink, not jet fuel," she snarked, and her thoughts instantly drifted to a very different set of arms that had wrapped around her previously. Her lips turned down into a frown, and the bounty hunter took notice.

"Stop that," he ordered, as though all of her buried emotion for the ferryman would simply vanish at his command. "What's done is done."

She released a breathy gasp, and she quickly covered her face with both hands to try and hide away her grief. "I'm so stupid."

Cross grunted. "No…you're not."

She dropped her caging fingers away from her eyes and stared at him. The bounty hunter's milky orbs were nothing but passive. She tilted her chin back and he leaned down to kiss her. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'm already here, aren't I?" he rasped, shifting in his place. "Are you warm enough?"

She gently turned and rested her head against him, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around his. "Yes. Shut up. G'night."

He sat his silent vigil as the passing storm raged on; the raindrops hit against the corrugated metal roof so violently it drowned out all other sound. When the ghoul felt her breathing finally slow, he rested his chin atop her head and let her sleep.


"I don't know…it looks pretty clear-what do you thi-" Evelyn tilted her head to the side to catch a glimpse of the ferryman, and her expression contorted into embarrassed denial.

The bounty hunter groaned. "Will ya quit that?" He shook his shoulders as though warding off evil. "Damn, you keep lookin' around so much I expect him to be there."

"Sorry," she mumbled, focusing her attention back through the binoculars.

It made her uneasy not having the constant presence of Charon around, anymore, to watch her back. She wasn't completely distressed, though, Cross was good at what he did. Pretty damn good.

"We'll skirt around. It'll be another ten miles, but I don't feel like clearin' raiders out today."

"Raiders?" She took another once over of the abandoned town; a tumbleweed barreled through. "I don't see anyone."

His bony index finger pushed against the side of the binoculars; half a mile from the town was evidence to his claim. Pieces of assorted human bones were haphazardly discarded into a piling pyramid. The crows scuttled in a fight amongst each other over a femur.

Evelyn crinkled her nose, and she handed the merc back his binoculars. "Oh."

"How did you make it through life this far?" Cross stowed away the gear in his bag, his question half-serious.

She pursed her lips angrily, visibly offended. A hand was waved. "Lead on."

The merc snapped his lighter shut with a shsk, taking a puff of his habit. She had her arms crossed and was pointedly not meeting his gaze, so he cupped a palm and slapped her ass as he walked past. She jumped at the sudden contact and squeaked, whirling on him angrily as he was already five steps ahead.

He removed his cigarette and gave a long exhale. "C'mon- oh, don't give me that look, you seemed to enjoy it the other night." He grinned over his shoulder at her as she bloomed crimson.

They were giving the town a wide berth, bypassing underneath the cavernous remains of a capsized airliner. Evelyn gaped at the size of the machinery, her fingers lightly running along its rusted-out frame. The bounty hunter's hand pushed against her chest roughly and she instantly careened backward; the tell-tale sound of a landmine gave a sharp shrill in the air. Evelyn's eyes widened as the merc went to step off the explosive, and then the beeping paused. His foot was still firmly in place.

"Shit." Cross took a large inhale, and he carefully turned his head. "You need to go."

She stood there dumbly; her expression alarmed. "Go? Can you-"

"This thing can go off at any time," he snarled, looking down at his feet. The bright indicator light mocked him. "I'm goin' to try and disarm it; it's still live, so if I fuck up-boom."

"But-"

"Holy fuckin' hell, Evelyn. I ain't goin' to get you blown up with me, ge-" He suddenly reached inside his jacket for his weapon; the safety clicked back and the barrel pointed above him. He growled threateningly.

A maniacal face was leering down from the upper decks of the airliner; the glint from the barrel of a rifle gleaming in the sun. "Oh, oh! New fish!" Dark eyes flitted over every inch of Evelyn's body, and the jet-addled junkie sniffed loudly. "Pretty fishy." He waved at her. "Come, come! Or I shoot, shoot!" His eyes were constantly roving, but his hands were rock steady.

Evelyn looked back to the merc; his eyes never left his target.

"Don't die," she whispered, her voice slightly cracking. With deliberate movements, she sidestepped around him and began her ascension up the rickety stairs that led to the upper decks.

The bounty hunter cursed himself for not having a clear shot; he clicked the safety back on and went to work with the imminent death laying at his feet.

The fiend was hawking her careful steps with overly rapt attention. The gun was aimed point-blank at her chest, and he twitched his foot constantly. Evelyn spied his make-shift campsite in the far corner; he was scavenging whatever wastelanders the raiders had missed. She did not like the look in his black eyes.

There were some feet between them, and he lifted the rifle to her face. "Stop, stop." He wiggled the barrel of the gun. "There, there. Take it off. All of it."

What the hell. Evelyn released a shaky breath, reaching for her bag and setting it down. Slowly, and methodically, she began to strip to her underwear; the pile of clothing dropped beside her.

"All of it. Pretty fishy"

The imagery of rape blew into her mind, and she clenched her jaw tightly as she unclasped her bra and let her lingerie fall to her ankles. Gingerly, she stepped out of them and crossed her arms over her breasts. If the little creep did decide to take that route, he would be in for a painful surprise.

He gave a dopey grin, just staring at her naked flesh with his abyss for eyes and rows of missing teeth. Evelyn averted her gaze, attempting to make herself seem as small as possible until he waved at her again with the gun.

"Come, come."

She hesitated, until he let a shot loose to the side. Smoke curled from the end of the barrel as he waved at her again.

"Come."

Evelyn proceeded, almost sluggishly, and then the sweltering barrel was flush against the underside of her left breast and she winced from the burn. A grimy hand fondled her right boob, and she choked back a scream as he squeezed her roughly. A click was heard behind her, and she felt hot tears roll down her cheeks in relief.

"Oh? You smart fish."

Cross was fuming. The little creep was not only crazy, he was smart. The landmine was a dud, and to anyone who didn't keep their cool or have the knowledge were easy prey for the conniving fiend as he toyed with them from his lookout. The ghoul had been duped, and now Evelyn was paying the price for it. The barrel was keeping constant contact against her skin as it came to dig into the underside of her jaw, and she bit back a sob. His finger was firm against the trigger; any wrong move and her head would be popped off.

The bounty hunter took cool, collected breaths. Evelyn was visibly trembling, and he had to mentally calm himself from going into a blind-inducing rage. The little fucker was dead.

The junkie leered from behind his human shield. "This my fishy."

"If you kill her, you're still dead," Cross threatened menacingly. "I'll trade you."

That nuzzle was dug farther, forcing Evelyn to tilt her chin up. "Oh? What fishy have?"

With the barrel of his gun still trained on its sights, the merc slowly crouched down to her bag and unzipped a pocket, reaching inside for the familiar clattering of pills. He presented a gracious amount of buffout, and the junkie began to breathe loudly through his nose.

"Mine," he hissed, his tapping foot going berserk. "Trade."

"Okay." The merc slowly stood. "Let her come back to me."

The weight of the gun was freed from her skin, and Evelyn took careful steps backwards until she felt the merc's hand travel around her waist, and he gently pushed her behind himself. The gun was now zeroed in on him.

"I lied," he said simply, and two shots rang out.

The fiend dropped; a bullet clean between the eyes.

The bounty hunter grunted in pain; his chest was bleeding profusely.

"Cross!" Evelyn caught the merc as he stumbled into her, and she lowered him to lie flat on the floor. Automatically going into autopilot, her hands flew at his jacket and she ripped it open, ignoring the flying buckles and snapped latches. "Hold still."

Turning to the side, she dove into her first aid satchel and procured tweezers and a stimpak. The bullet was pried out, and she wiped away at the fountain of blood as she quickly inoculated him. The wound began to close, and they sat there breathing heavily.

The merc turned his head to look at her. She was completely naked, and her forearms were painted in the crimson of his blood. She wiped away at a loose strand of hair across her forehead, baptizing herself in the name of his sins with a red streak across her skin. He laughed loudly and winced at the sting it caused.

Her eyes snapped to his face. "What the fuck is so funny?"

"If I had a naked woman patch me up every time I got shot, I would gladly take every bullet."

She huffed at him annoyingly, leaving him to his devices as she dug out a water bottle and unscrewed the cap. He slowly sat upright as she proceeded to wash away his blood from her skin.

"You missed a spot," he said, licking his thumb and reaching over at her forehead.

She shrunk back away from him. "Ew, I don't want your spit on my face."

He gave her a befuddled look. "My spit? Just last night you let me-"

She blushed madly, wiping at her forehead with a dab of water. "Yeah, well, that doesn't wash off so easily." She then thrust the remainder of her bottle at him. "Let's hurry up and go."

Her clothes flew on in a hurry, and she finished just as the merc wiped away the remainder of gore from his bare torso. His fingers went to close the front flaps of his jacket, and then he sighed in mild irritation. "Well. Guess I like a breeze."

They then left the dead fiend to rot, not even bothering to scavenge for any loot.