When he saw her, he didn't know what to say.
She was seated at the bar counter, like a hundred times before. Her hair was in waves down her spine; she was wearing that long sleeve blue shirt that perfectly complimented her ocean eyes. They were seated together, and the bounty hunter was regarding her in a way the ferryman did not recognize from before. Whatever their relationship had been, only seemed to progress. He was handling her visibly in public, now, and they both either didn't notice or just blatantly disregarded the disgusted stares throwing stones upon them.
Evelyn looked…happy.
He growled to himself vexingly. Perhaps it wasn't the wisest choice to come back to her, after all. It was apparently obvious that she did not require his existence. But he was here, and she was his last employer, and she was still alive to transfer the ownership of it. Wherever his life was about to be led from this point on, he was just content in being able to see her again.
The merc caught him approaching before she did; his eyes widened in surprise. "Evelyn." The bounty hunter jutted his chin at him.
She spun around in her seat, and her face flew into an array of mixed emotions before finally settling on one: joy.
"Charon!" she cried out, jumping up to throw her arms around him. He caught her, grounding out incomprehensible grumblings as she hugged him. He set her down and held her away from himself. "W-what the hell! What're you-?!"
The contract was shoved under her nose. "Chief Cooper suffered a heart attack and died. I have returned to you, as you are my previous employer."
She stood there, stupefied for a moment, before snatching the contract and folding it into her back pocket. "We…we should talk." A tilt of her head over her shoulder. "I'll be right back."
He followed behind her outside down an empty alleyway, and she nervously wrung her hands together. "Charon…what are you doing here?"
He blinked down at her. "Chief Cooper suffered a heart-"
"No, yeah, I understand that." She bit her lip and gave out a sigh, rubbing at her forehead. "I mean, what are you doing here? I've asked you before what would happen to your contract if I died, and you said you would simply pick your next employer. Why did you come back to me?"
He gave her a weird look, as though she had stated something extremely obvious. "I wish to be with you; I was not the one who made the choice to be left behind."
The words were said so flatly, she felt them wring around her heart. "Charon…I…"
His hands came to rest gently on her shoulders, and he leaned his head down close to hers. "I will do what is asked of you." He then stood away, a thought on his face. "It…it is good to see you again, Evelyn. You look well."
She bit out a laugh, wiping at the hot tears that had spilled. "I mean, I did get shot-" His eyes blazed and she spluttered, the words dying on her lips. "But I'm okay! See?" She twirled for emphasis with a forced smile.
He crossed his arms and grumbled, clearly unsure of her truth.
A bite of her lower lip, and she bull-rushed him into a fierce hug. He grunted from the sudden air leaving his lungs, but he returned the gesture just the same. She buried her face into his chest and rubbed herself against him, deeply inhaling the nostalgic smell of leather and gunpowder.
"I missed you," she breathed, and he tightened his hold on her.
"That is obvious," he said with a hint of amusement. A glare was snapped upwards; the tumble of hair flying over his arms.
"Didn't miss you that much," she huffed, proceeding to tilt her chin up and away.
He barked out a laugh, bending down to firmly kiss her forehead; she bloomed in every shade of red. "I think you did."
His thoughts were asunder as he smoked distractedly in their absence; the ferryman and himself had not quite left on notable terms, and he felt a stab of anxiety in his gut at the joy Evelyn had expressed upon seeing the crimson ghoul. Why the fuck would a previous bodyguard come all this way, unless-
A hand clapped down on his shoulder, and it brought him back to reality; the rowdy noise of the bar and smell of alcohol rooted him to solid ground.
"Oh, Christ," the merc growled as Campbell went to sit beside him. "I was hopin' that I wouldn't-" His jaw snapped shut, and his eyes became slits. A gray hand braced against the edge of the counter, and he spun his seat around to face their third wheel.
"You idiot-" he snarled, "-what the fuck are you-"
Campbell's hand gave a solid clasp on the ghoul's shoulder. "Hey man, go easy on her-"
Cross rose from his seat, palpably pissed-off. "I did," he said rather darkly. "Campbell, why the fuck did you bring this kid-"
"I'm not a kid," Lydia timidly defended herself, her voice wavering as she tried to stand her ground against the bounty hunter. "I-I just-"
"Lydia?" An inquiring voice made all three heads turn. Evelyn blinked at the girl and turned to Campbell. "Oh God, you again?"
"Cazador." An imaginary hat tip.
"What the fuck is going on?" Her hair whirled around her shoulders as she spun to look at everyone. It finally landed on Cross. "What are you suddenly so pissed off for?"
A growl was all she received, and she planted her hands on her hips with a look that read you care to repeat yourself?
The merc redirected at Lydia, who was now nervously wringing her hands behind her back. Cross pointed at the door. "Go back to Carly's, we ain't lookin' to make friends."
"By herself?!" Evelyn gaped at him.
"She made it this far," he snapped at her.
"She did not." Charon finally stepped in, and the merc rounded on him.
Both men lent to a hostile atmosphere as they stared the other down, and both felt a small hand encompass over their wrists and squeeze down hard. The ferryman let loose a garbled hiss, removing Evelyn's grip and turning to the side, muttering incoherent nonsense as he rubbed at the tender flesh.
"Ow," the merc breathed out, but he made no attempt to free himself. "That hurts."
"Big baby." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Stop being so dramatic."
And just like that, his grumpy, old man persona fell away; he mumbled under his breath and sighed as he freed himself and reached for a smoke inside of his jacket.
"And you-" She turned back around to the ferryman, grabbing at his bicep and spinning him to halfway face her, "-you just got here, so please, don't," she subtly pleaded.
He knew the look in her eyes; it spelled out Charon, I know you're pissed off, but I really don't want to attract any attention right now. She was his employer, binding once again. But, it wasn't necessarily an order…
"Where did you get shot?" he rasped down at her, and the both of them froze.
"Oh, boy." Campbell spun around in his seat, motioning to Lydia to follow. "Let's go to the other side of the bar, for now."
She gave him a confused glance, and he nearly dragged her by the elbow as she kept her attention glued to the party of three.
Evelyn crossed her arms, leaning against the bar counter. "Does it matter?" She glanced over at a few players hitting billiards together in a game of pool. There was an outburst as someone made a scratch.
Her reluctance confirmed his suspicion, and he glowered menacingly at the bounty hunter dragging on his cigarette. "You are lucky she did not go into shock from that much blood loss. She would be dead."
Evelyn worriedly chewed on her bottom lip, expecting outrage from the grey ghoul, but he merely sighed, depressed. "Yeah…I know."
"Charon, drop it," she seethed at him, and he snorted at her, his knuckles cracking as his hands formed into fists. She recognized the preparatory motions he habitually made before laying out a blow, and she gave him an admonishing look. "I mean it."
A grunt, and he took the swing. It wasn't like she had ordered him not to.
"Charon!"
It was the second time the merc had taken a direct hit from the larger ghoul, and it still fucking hurt, all the same. He honestly expected it, and he could have evaded in time…but something kept him frozen in spot, and he alleged it was guilt.
There was a crack, and he registered the agonizing pain- his jaw was broken, slacked as it sat dislocated to the side.
Instantly, there was multiple clicking around the room; nearly everyone had drawn their guns in panic at the two, rather sizeable ghouls duking it out over the bar counter. If it had been two regular humans…then it was a free show, but no one chanced the risk at a possible feral. Especially if the feral happened to be over six feet tall and well over two hundred pounds.
The ferryman immediately noted the precarious situation he had placed them in, and he froze in midmotion before delivering another sanctifying punch. Evelyn was standing her ground between the two, her hands raised and breathing shaky. She licked her lips and was about to issue an order, but the bounty hunter lifted himself off the side of the counter and made his way for the exit. Everyone in his path shuffled cautiously to the side, and he stumbled out the door.
If they were going to clear the air between them, might as well get it done and over with…preferably with no sights aimed at their backs.
There was a drizzle of frigid rain, and it felt good against the waves of agony throbbing in his head. Evelyn was on his tail, and she was quivering from distress.
"Oh my God, are you okay?!" The tips of her fingers reached towards his fractured face, but he intercepted her hand with his own and gave a reassuring squeeze.
He couldn't speak, and he tried to relay a message from behind the milky whites of his eyes, I've had a lot worse.
"We need to get to the medical clinic, I saw it on the way in-" A tug of her hand, but he remained frozen in spot.
Charon had now exited the tavern, and there was a crowd of people huddled at the windows to watch the inevitable fight play out.
Evelyn whirled on him, ignoring the multiple eyes glinting through the dark. "Charon, what the fuck!?"
"That was a lot of blood, Evelyn. I was afraid you had not survived."
A sarcastic chuckle reverberated. "Ta-da." She slapped her hands angrily at her sides.
"It is not funny. He is too distracted by you." Charon observed simply, and both ghouls met each other's gaze. There was a bright glow from the ferryman's eyes as the hot coals of his inner furnace roared. "You should not travel with him."
A guffaw at his brute honesty. "That's not how this works-"
"He will get you killed."
"Anything, can get you killed," she shouted. "Didn't we just learn that, in Serrato?"
He snapped his face back down to hers, and his raspy tone had become heated. "That was different."
"No, it sure as fuck wasn't," she scowled, pointing a finger threateningly at him. "Fucking leave it, or I'm sending you off with someone else."
Those white-hot orbs drew down to a slit. He had just made his way back to her, and she was already threatening to cast him back out into open waters…the Lone Wanderer had not once ever issued such a request, and here she was, doing it twice. Did those months of companionship not mean anything to her? After all of those excursions…after all of those nights spent together, under the stars with nothing but each other? Isn't that what the Lone Wanderer had spent so many months trying to make him understand? But she was not him…not even close. And yet, when he had reached the end of his rope that was cast down into the abyss of a well that was his life, he could only draw up his love for her.
Two very different people in two very different times of his life, not so far apart, and yet miles away.
He sighed irritably, rubbing at his eyes. "What is it you would have me do?"
"Not try and kill him!"
"That was not my original intention," Charon grated flatly.
"Look at his fucking face!"
A shrug. "An improvement."
There was an amused, garbled chortle behind her, and she only ran her hands through her wet, ropy hair. "I'll…deal with you tomorrow, Charon…just, go get a room, and fucking stay there." She turned back to the merc. "Let's go."
There was an audible ruckus of disappointment behind the rain-stained glass from their peeping observers as the two ghouls began to walk off down opposite ways.
"…are you okay?" she softly asked, crossing her arms sulkily.
His eyes were closed, and he only gave a shake of his head as he stole a drag from his illegal cigarette. The doctor had expressed her distaste earlier. "Just fuckin' peachy."
"He…he just…means well," she lamely excused.
"I think he means a lot more than that," he muttered, blowing the smoke away from her. Gingerly, he rotated his newly healed jaw- it still fucking hurt. "I thought you dismissed his service."
"…I did."
"And he just decided to up and walk all the way here? For you?" he drawled angrily. He couldn't help it- despite the truth the ferryman had spoken about him. It still didn't make him any less ired. "Just what the fuck is he to you?!"
The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he had said the wrong thing, but he couldn't help it. It felt good to have it in the open between them, despite that ambiance feeling absolutely murderous. Charon had a completely different look to his eyes when they had settled on her…it was almost, like-
"Did you two fuck at some point?" In his mind, it was a reasonable thing to assume. She clearly wasn't bothered with the notion of being with a ghoul, physically or sexually. And it would explain a lot of the weird subtleties the two had around each other.
The question made her gasp aloud, and she violently shook her head and was setting herself to leave.
"Heyhey- no. Don't just fuckin' walk away…Evelyn-" He grabbed at her wrist. "I won't get angry…I just have to know, especially since you have that damn look on your face. I can tell you want him around."
"…our relationship isn't like that."
"Then what exactly is it?"
"Why does it matter to you so much?" she snapped.
A disbelieving chuckle at her sudden defensiveness; the smoke from his lit cigarette was beginning to make the medical room hazy. "Are you fuckin' serious? You don't see the problem I have with this?"
An angry shrug, hypocritical to the fact she knew exactly what the issue was. "I don't even fucking know you that well, we just fuck, so what."
That hand dropped from her own, and he took a deep breath, focusing his attention on the cigarette in between his fingers. The vibe between them was reforming back to the way it was when he had first awoken on that cot way back in Earling, when his ribs were cracked and his arm was broken. He was beginning to grow truly angry with her.
"You're just bein' a bitch, and you're just fightin' me," he growled, "if you want to just fuckin' leave, there's the door. I'm gettin' fed up with this shit."
Two hundred years later, and the ghoul was finally acting his age. There was a hiccup, and he narrowed his eyes at her as she wiped some stray tears. She took his advice and stormed out of the clinic without some much as a glance back. He rubbed at his forehead vexingly; he was getting really good at sabotaging their relationship thus far.
The simple journey to Braxton was proving more difficult than the actual city itself. In her mind, it had all been laid out in a concise and convenient manner- Charon was…well, Charon. She was as reckless in action as Charon wasn't, and it was a partnership that ensured her survival in such situations. The ghoul was experienced and composed, whereas she, on the other hand, was a walking nuke. She needed someone to regain her feet after the fallout, and the ferryman was just the person she required when she took on the vendetta of finding Darcy.
Cross was the exact opposite. He wasn't necessarily careless, but he was just as temperamental as she was, and he let it show in all forms: a gunfight, his words, even making love…it was a little rougher, than usual. And Charon spoke nothing but the truth when it came to the two of them- he was distracted by her, and it showed on the surface of her skin.
Evelyn had traveled alone for years until she had met Charon, back in the Capital Wasteland…perhaps they were not the issue that needed solving, perhaps they all would fare better to each their own.
She groaned aloud at the thought of propositioning such a request to the two of them. They would both react like simple children and have a meltdown at the thought of her leaving them again. She had promised the merc she would not abandon him- if he even cared to still have her. Their incessant bickering and buried past traumas were beginning to draw them into a corner; they were both lashing out at each other, perhaps in fear of facing what they tried so hard to hide.
Evelyn hated to admit it to herself, but she really did care for him. It was easy to understand why the past women in his life were so eager for his amorous company, even if it was just ghouls, her being the exception. The bounty hunter was funny, charming, and she found him distinctly attractive despite outward appearances. He was the second ghoul she had ever been with romantically after him.
"Will that be all?" the desk attendant asked as she stood there, staring off into empty space.
The key jingled in her hand, and there was a drip drip as water streamlined from her soaked clothes onto the floor. "Yeah, sorry."
Her backpack and strewn clothes were resettled into a new room, and she stripped her wet garments to dry as she succumbed to a hot shower to drown away her thoughts. She bit her lower lip so unforgivingly it drew blood; a small scar beginning to form.
The first thing Cross noticed was her missing bag. It was obvious she had left him, again, and he cracked a fist and just sat on the edge of their bed, drained and callous.
There was no note to give an indication if she would return, or where she had run off to, and if he had to guess, she was probably already dragging down the road with the ferryman at her side. Although, he wasn't quite sure what words he would say to her to make-up the situation between them.
He had given her the invitation to depart, and she readily took it.
There was the opportunity to just turn around and mosey on back to Carly's- Irene was sure to be pissed at him, granted, but it wasn't anything that would transpire past a drink or two.
The bounty hunter hadn't had a proper relationship with a woman in far too long, not like he didn't remember exactly how…an angry growl vibrated in his chest. He was too old to still be chasing, and having to be precarious with what he said and tied down to one fuckable body. Besides, she apparently was more interested in Charon than he could ever understand.
He seriously contemplated never seeing her again.
