Project Purity…that's what Dad called it. He said it's supposed to provide clean water for the wasteland! Can you even imagine that? I…I can't believe he gave that up for me, ya know…anyways, I guess I should get back to him, he said he needed help with-

Grind grind grind- his teeth grated back and forth like a brahmin on cud.

he-he's gone, Charon-I…I need some time, to myself…I'll be back-

Tap tap tap- his index finger punched rhythmically into the armored padding of his riot gear on his bicep.

So, Charon, huh? Like the Ferryman…do you even know your own name? 'There Charon stands, who rules the dreary coast-' No? Well, I guess I'll just have to enlighten you on our journey…oh, I'm sorry, I'm being rude-I'm Evelyn.

The grinding stopped altogether with his metronome patter.

Although, I must say, you live quite well to your description- 'His eyes, like hollow furnaces on fire' – let us journey, my Ferryman, through our river of Styx! Sorry, I don't have a coin for you…will this Nuka Cola do instead?

What the fuck. Charon sighed aggravatedly and closed his eyes, willing the mental image of their first encounter from his mind. She was the wind that had left his sails; he was stuck sitting upon the helm of his boat, keeping a keen eye on the horizon for land. She wasn't dead-or, she could be, for all he knew. That thought only crawled under his skin with cold, pincer-like steps. No. Evelyn wasn't completely defenseless, she had the bounty hunter- he was capable, as much as Charon hated to admit his skill. But, what if-

"Hey, Charon-" The ferryman turned to catch Espinoza waving to him. "Chief wants a word, big guy."

C'mon, big guy- don't give me that face, it's fun! Okay, so skipping rocks maybe isn't the most stellar thing to do- here, you try! …what the fuck, first time and seven skips?! Okay, you know what, this isn't that fun…

He left his post as Espinoza temporarily relieved him; his footsteps clambered loudly through the racket of the security station. As was custom, almost every head turned to stare; only when he had passed, did the whispers begin to drift forth. He closed the door to Chief Cooper's office behind him.

"Take a seat-" The head of security affairs blinked as the ghoul immediately sat down, "-oh, right." He cleared his throat loudly, bristling through his mustache. "I want you on the manifest with Deputy Jenkins back up to Serrato- I would be shooting myself in the foot if I didn't have you go back to lead the team. Campbell said he was also willing to attend. Would you be good with that?"

Charon just gave a single nod.

"Alrighty then." Cooper scratched at his forehead under the brim of his hat. "Oh, before you go, she left this for you. Asked if I would wait till she was gone, so, here." A folded letter was held over the desk, and the ghoul took it in his hands, blinking dumbly.

On the front was a poorly scribbled drawing of a boat along a river; a man holding an oar at the helm.


"Hey? You okay?"

Evelyn groaned aloud, massaging at her scalp with her fingertips. "For the millionth time, yes." Her hair was undone and wildly flailing in the wind; she caught all the strands together and wrapped it into a messy ponytail high atop her head. "…I'll be fine."

Cross narrowed his eyes at her, following in her footsteps a few feet back. "Do you want to talk?"

"No."

He grumbled irately, his guilt from his failure at protecting her and her mild cold shoulder left him vexingly grumpy. It had been like this for hours now, and they still had another few to go until the sun would begin to go down. As much as he wanted to clear up his own feelings on the matter, he dared not bring up the topic lest he say something stupid.

They continued, strolling along through a suburban neighborhood, the houses hollowed and some barely standing. He indicated with his chin to a decent shelter; the rain was beginning to fall again. They took refuge inside the living room of a house; the door was held closed with a chair pushed under the knob. There was a fireplace, and the ghoul lifted an arm inside to open the damper as Evelyn watched him curiously.

"What are you doing?"

"Tryin' to get this damn thing open-ugh, there we go." He clapped the soot from his hands, only smudging it further. "C'mere, let's see how hard it is to wash this off." He clambered over to her with his blackened palms, and she giggled and parkoured around the ruined couch from his reach.

"Ew! No, stop!" She twirled away from him. "I said no! Cross, I mean it!"

The ghoul froze for a moment, and Evelyn breathily laughed. When he remained in his spot, she raised an eyebrow, and then it quickly turned into concern. "Hey, what's wrong?"

His eyes looked right through her until he grunted; he turned around and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Nothin'…just a ghost, is all."

Evelyn was good at deducing, and she looked around the house with a sad smile. "Did…did you use to live in a house like this?" she asked softly.

The ghoul avoided her question. "I'm goin' to start a fire."


The rain gave a gentle thrum across the roof. Evelyn was snuggled deep inside her sleeping bag, watching the merc stitch at the front end of his leather jacket. There was a cigarette hanging precariously from the corner of his mouth; his bare, muscled chest contracted with every breath he took.

His shadowed eyes flitted from his work to catch her stare. "You good?"

"When do you want me to take watch?"

The ghoul snorted. "Don't worry about it. I'm a light sleeper, as it is."

Evelyn mimicked his snort. "Not with that snoring, you're not."

His eyes flew to the ceiling as he racked his brain for a witty reply, but he had nothing in his arsenal, and he simply shrugged his shoulders. She soon fell asleep, and the night grew on. The rain had eventually stopped, and the ghoul had finished with his repairs. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he leaned back in his seat and finished his smoke, looking down the dark hallway leading to the bedrooms that reminded him too much of his own. Angrily, he stubbed out the cig against the table and fed some fuel to the fire.

With his own bedding set beside her, he laid himself down and perched up on one elbow, his rough fingers gently removing the tawny hair from her face. There were no lines of worry or anger in her sleeping expression, and she appeared much younger than she was. He accidentally brushed against her nose, tickling her into a sneeze.

She blinked disconcertedly at him, itching at the tip with her hand. "What?"

He held up his palms in surrender. "Sorry."

Her eyes then settled, glinting under the firelight. She opened her sleeping roll, edging her body flush against him. With her head nuzzled into the recess of his shoulder, she gave a tired exhale through her nose and was fast asleep. The bounty hunter pulled her bedding over them, and he listened to her breathing in symphony with the fire crackling away.


"…may God help us all."

We're going to die…aren't we?

Cross burst upright, the faint outline of the living room in the morning dusk disorienting him. Rapidly blinking away the sleep from his eyes, his body subconsciously turned to reach for the bottle of booze he kept at his bedside. His fingers met with empty air and he sniffed loudly, opening one eye fully. There was no bottle, because he went to bed sober that night. He went to bed sober, because he had Evelyn to fulfill his need instead-which-

For the second time, she was gone.

"Evelyn," he ground out, rising from their makeshift bedding groggily.

"You are the heaviest light sleeper I've ever met."

He almost sighed in relief. With a pop of his knees, he stood upright fully, bare naked and scratching at his head. Evelyn was sitting at the table, fully dressed and busily braiding her hair down the side, an empty bag of sugar bombs at her elbow. "Who's Amelia?"

The ghoul was reaching for his pants but ended up stumbling into a chair, knocking his shin against the frame.

"Ow, fuck," he hissed, groaning as he turned his back to her. His hands flexed into fists, and he relaxed them to nab at his clothing. He ignored the question.

There was a screech as her chair skidded across the floor, and she was suddenly shouldering her pack onto her shoulders. The ghoul barely had time to buckle into his reinforced jeans as she reached for the door handle.

"Whoa, wait-where the hell are you goin'?" his atrophied vocals rumbled as he encroached on her.

"I thought we were just ignoring each other, so here I go."

"What is it that you fuckin' want?" The rasping anger that was directed at her made her stiffen. "I thought you wanted to get to Braxton, not ask every goddamn question there is to my life."

"And I thought you wanted to keep me as far away from Braxton as possible," she snapped back. "And yet, here we are."

Those faded eyes were lethal now, burning a hole through her. "I still do."

"Well you're doing the absolute worst fucking job of it." Her hands cut through the air at him.

He didn't reply, just furiously gnashed his teeth together and rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his palm.

"Whatever," Evelyn relented, her hand making contact with the cold doorknob as his fist slammed against the doorframe.

"Don't," his garbled voice snarled in warning. "Don't you fuckin' leave."

Evelyn didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Or what?"

His hand went to grab at her waist, but she viciously smacked it away.

"Don't you dare," she threatened. "Who's Amelia?"

He exhaled sharply through his nose, leaning his head away from her. He didn't respond to her question.

"Just fucking tell me!" she nearly cried up at him.

For the first time, Cross gave her a look of complete devastation, his breath shuddering as his shoulders sagged. It looked as though he was about to break down, but as quickly as the emotion came it was gone, replaced with a careful mask of visible ire.

"Just…just don't leave, again." His words betrayed his face; his tone was extremely desolate and defeated. "That's all I'm askin'."

His moment of complete vulnerability subdued any anger she was feeling. With both hands, she gently cupped them around his face and he closed his eyes against her touch, his fingers mooring around her wrists. He kissed the inside of both her palms.

"Don't leave me, and I won't leave you," she promised him, and he sighed through his nostrils and slowly nodded in agreement. "I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness."

He then went to work in undressing her, and they did not leave until later that afternoon.


"Holy shit." Deputy Clara Jenkins surveyed the initial scene of Serrato, crossing her arms and giving a glance to Charon and Campbell. "You guys made one hell of a mess."

"Was a lot messier, at the time," Campbell relayed, kicking a rock across the town square; the clambering stone gave off a lonely echo.

A sentinel was nudging at the decapitated head of the super mutant; a whistle let loose from his lips. "Damn, he was big. Who had the honors here?"

Campbell just hitched a thumb at the ghoul.

They made their rounds. Charon was taking the charge, slowly clearing every building with his small team; together, they made it to the cafeteria.

"Can't say I wanted to be back here so soon." Campbell shook his head, rifling through the containers for anything salvageable.

"You do that too?" Clara indicated with her chin to the mutant impaled to the wall, and Charon only shook his head.

"That, was courtesy of Cazador- the woman that came with us." Campbell then turned to the sentinel that was peering inside of his busted cage. "That was her too."

"Jesus," the man replied, his fingers stroking over the warped bars. He then looked over his shoulder back to his team. "She a damn mutant or something?"

Campbell gave a lazy shrug of his shoulders; Charon just crossed his arms and stared down at his feet, a crack in the tile from where she had hit her head.

The town was clear.

"Okay, Roy and Alex- you two will head back to Capers, give the report to Chief; go ahead and put in the request for the cleanup crew. Jones, Charon, Campbell, and I will try and organize whatever is left into working order and begin burying the bodies. Don't want the damn wildlife moving in and making our job any harder." Clara directed her hand in the air along with her orders, and they set into motion.

They were designated their quadrants, and Charon made his way to begin at the pass.

Ch-let go you fuck-Charon! No, CH-

The wind trickled through, and the scent of hot dirt and decay assailed his senses. He snorted, not realizing his feet had stopped. He was standing in the middle of their ambush site, and he could clearly see her face vividly staring up at him. The ghoul grumbled nonsense and rubbed his eyes.

I…I thought you died, Charon.

She was getting dragged through the dirt; he tried to reach her, his body was breaking, there were so many-

The Pip-Boy; he bent down, gently picking it up and cradling it in his large hands. She was screaming, she was crying, but it wasn't for her-it was for him-

It's all I can see.

Crash! The remains of the Pip-Boy went careening into the cliffside wall; the explosive display of circuitry and glass rained down upon the sand. The ferryman's hands went to his head, this wasn't how it was supposed to be- he had kept her safe for months, and now she's gone, just like-

"You good, Charon?"

He turned, the deputy made her way up the slope towards him; her eyes were downcast and trying to read the tracks at his feet. She squinted her eyes from the glare of the sun and looked to the broken wrist-computer he had so viciously disposed of.

"Did it bite you or something?" she joked, the toe of her foot drawing a line in the sand. She then clicked her tongue and settled her green eyes on him. "You didn't have to come back here, you know."

"I am fine," he said flatly. He then strode past her, not caring to look over his shoulder. "This area is clear."


"It's official. I need a break." Evelyn carelessly threw her pack from her stiff shoulders, breathing in copious amounts of air. Her knees were shaking, and she sat down against the train tracks that they had been perusing along, using her bag as an improvised pillow. The slung rifle was digging into her back, and she shifted it to alleviate the annoyance.

Cross looked back down the way they had come, and then upwards to the late afternoon sky. "We've only been at it for a few hours; still got a ways to go if you want to sleep in a real bed tonight."

She waved a hand tiredly at him. "I need a break from that too. I'm so sore, if I walk another step, I'm going to split in half."

He grinned down at her; a sizeable rock was chucked in his proximity. "Whoa, I almost felt the wind from that one."

She flipped him the bird, then cradled her arm over her eyes, and was soon asleep. Her jaw went slightly slack, and after an hour had passed, the merc crouched down and reached a hand underneath her chin. He closed her mouth shut with a click, and she reactively grabbed at his forearm forcefully.

"Easy, now, whoa," the merc spoke slowly and loudly, his fingers still curled underneath her. Almost immediately, her vice-grip loosened. Well, he wasn't going to do that again. When she lowered her arm and blinked at him, he stood and offered her a hand. "Let's keep movin'."


They were walking along the bank of a riverside, his hands in his pockets with a cigarette between his lips. Sometimes Evelyn would pause and bend over to physically inspect a smooth stone, judging its value in skipping over the water. She made five consecutive skips, and he gave a low grunt.

"Your aim is good with somethin'," he observed.

"Shut up," she laughed, the wide smile and crinkle of her eyes making his heart pound painfully.

The sun dipped into the early evening, their trailblazing bringing them to an established caravan outpost that took residence in an old town whose name had long been forgotten. The whirring sound of generators filled the air as they made their steps past patrolling security; the smell of gunpowder and fuel burned their noses. Dogs chained to their handlers frothed at the mouth as they passed, giving ample warning of their ferocious intentions.

"Friendly place," Evelyn commented. They were cleared to enter past the corrugated, metal gate, and they proceeded onto the main street of town.

"It's a trader's hub; raiders tend to think they're easy pickin's," he informed her. "And they're too stupid to quit tryin'."

"I know someone who's too stupid to quit trying." She poked his bicep.

"Ya know, I'm just goin' to stop talkin'. Keep usin' my own damn words against me." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, causing her to stumble as he pulled her into him. "Not safe physically or verbally."

"It's not my fault you're fucking dumb," Evelyn responded matter-of-factly, squirming out from under his hold.

He chaperoned her around the town, and they purchased a room from the acclaimed Carly's Lounge; the joint was the all-in-one for boarding, drinking, and nightly company. The woman behind the counter was heavy-set, her square jaw working angrily as she handed over their key.

"Thanks, Carly," Cross muttered, almost shamefully.

Evelyn blinked stupidly at the strange interaction between the two.

Carly narrowed her eyes, those dark irises evolving into slits. "This pretty thing isn't with you, I hope?"

Evelyn interjected; her curiosity piqued. "Is there something wrong?" she innocently asked.

Cross inwardly groaned. Evelyn was correct; he was fucking dumb. They were perhaps better off camping in the woods. "Why does everyone keep remindin' me of shit from years ago?"

Carly laughed humorously. "You mean only a couple months ago? The caps you gave me barely covered replacing the frame on that bed."

Shit. His track of time was crumbling, it was only weeks ago. "Do I still owe ya? I'll pay for it."

"You sure as hell will, Cross." Carly wiped her hands together aggressively, and she jabbed a finger at Evelyn. "And you'll get your damn, filthy hands off this young woman. You dirty geezer."

His hand didn't remove itself off her waist, and he felt her turn to look up at him. "Why is it every town we come to someone has something to say about you?" Evelyn asked him sweetly. He tensed at the underlying threat in her tone.

"Because he's a damn sleazeball, that's why." Carly nodded her head affirmatively, crossing her massive arms over her large bosom. "Go on, tell her what you left me with- and who- I should add."

She didn't wait for him to respond and began to retell the story herself. "This damn ghoul bought two of my girls, paid for a room for two nights. I thought to myself, well, Cross is usually a good customer. Always pays, no issues- but those two days, you nearly cost me an entire week of income! They were so damn loud- I considered having Bob and the Boys come and boot you three to high hell! And the damage, oh Lord-"

Evelyn had now forcibly removed his hand from around her side; her eyes were sparkling with frustration and she exhaled sharply through her nose. "May I have another room, please?"

UGH. The ghoul sighed irritably. I am not goin' to go through this shit again.

"I'll give you the money, Carly." He left the woman as she continued to seethe down memory lane, cautiously directing Evelyn off to the side and up the stairs. She was ignoring him coldly, her hands working into tight fists and then rubbing irately against her thighs. "I shouldn't have to say that this was all before I met you."

"I-I just…" She huffed, clearly riled. She spun around at him and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I know that, I do. But…fuck, it still…hurts," she added honestly. "I feel like I'm just going to be another page in your fucking long book of women."

"Whoa now- hey." His palms cupped her face gently, holding her eyes to his. "I told you, I need you. I really do; you're the only woman I want, and I'm not makin' that fuckin' mistake again. I swear."

She let out a breath of hot air, nodding a little sadly. "But really? Two women at once?" She bit her lip. "I guess you have good stamina."

He chuckled, relieved at her humor. Pulling her into his chest, he gave her a tight hug and kissed her forehead. "C'mon, I can show you a bit of that stamina."

She barked a laugh and they continued down the hallway. "Ew, no. I never want to hear you say something like that in that context ever again. Makes you sound like a lecherous old man….oh, wait."

He grumbled at her snide jab, opening their door and letting her step inside first.