Ten Years Ago

Scritch scritch scritch

The pen tip glided along the parchment sheet smoothly; the overly neat and attractive cursive flowing like water over rocks. A cackle from the fire made her lift her head for a moment, her eyes unfocused and seeing things that were not really there. After a spell, she drew her gaze back down to the notebook, continuing her writings.

Cross had never once asked what it was that she was so steadfastly inscribing. He would just watch from his seat across the campfire, his eyes reflecting the flames. He learned from their first day together to not ask her much of anything at all; she would merely stare at him with that hollowed look, scraping out his insides to be thoroughly examined.

They were nearly to Braxton, and his job would soon be done. He was more than ready to be rid of her.

He cracked a beer, downed it. He grabbed another and drew himself comfily against his pack to savor it. The bottle of scotch he kept was put on hold for another night; he would be a poor mercenary if he allowed himself to get drunk in the middle of the wastes with a woman who didn't even know how to shoot.

Only when the moon was at its highest, did Darcy set aside her notebook and curl into herself to fall asleep. It was the only time the ghoul could really appreciate her beauty without fear of sinking into those eyes.


Carly's Lounge was at his fingertips that next night.

His client had ordered her room, regarding everything around them with the same, empty gaze as she did with everything else. She only spoke when needed- her light, crystal voice cutting sharp.

The merc was finally free for the evening, shaking the chill that had settled on his shoulders for being around her for so long. There was a new girl he hadn't had the pleasure of acquainting, and when she spoke her name in that sultry voice, it surprised him in a fanciful way.

"I'm Irene, honey. Lookin' forward to doin' business with you."

He gladly paid for the entire night, drowning himself in booze and a new woman to try and forget the icy stormfront that tomorrow was sure to bring.

The next day came, and went. And then another, and then another. Another town, another woman, another fuck, another night of drunken stupor.

Scritch scritch scritch

Another page was filled with secret words.

They were crossing the bridge, so close. A few raiders picked them as easy prey; Cross had taken a bullet to the bicep as he shielded Darcy. When all was said and done, he worked out of his jacket and began to doctor himself as she stared at him inertly.

"Problem?" he grunted, prying around for the bullet nestled in his flesh.

"If you were not so weighed down, you would have avoided this." The statement was so Darcy that he just barked out a sardonic laugh. She said nothing more, and he didn't hear her speak again until they had finally come to the gates of Braxton.

The Present

Evelyn's head was cradled into her hands, the IV making a steady drip of radaway through her veins. She felt like every inch of her was buzzed; she had apparently passed out. Thomas and his brigade were absent, and there was a hive of muffled activity beyond their door.

"Where…where is Thomas?" She spoke so quietly Charon had to strain to hear her.

"Perhaps tending to his own injuries," Charon rumbled, and she slowly lifted her head to glower at him. "How do you know him?"

She lowered herself back into her hands, sighing loudly. "I thought he was dead. Although, he wasn't…glowing, when I knew him."

The door flew open, and both stared at the ghoul striding inside. His bleary eyes snapped onto Evelyn's face. "So, you're the smoothskin, huh?"

Penny had her hand on the ghoul's arm a little forcefully, attempting to draw him away. "Mayor, please-"

He rudely shrugged her off, catching the warning glare of the ferryman and stroking at his green chin. "Who the hell are you?"

A glow illuminated the doorway. "Rick, go back to your office."

The mayor spun around; his false wig did not. It hung askew as he purposefully fixed it. "Thomas, why the hell did you let a smoothskin into this city!?" He dramatically flourished a finger across the room.

"This is something we should discuss at a later time," Thomas said, making a motion for him to follow.

The mayor remained in place, his eyes roving over Evelyn for a bit too long. She felt her skin crawl under his gaze. "Braxton is a dangerous city for women; especially pretty ones like yourself."

Charon's hands swiped at the empty air where the mayor's collar had been; the olive ghoul was being shoved roughly against the wall back outside; Thomas braced a forearm over his throat.

"Don't speak to her in that manner," Thomas growled lowly, slowly applying pressure. "Go back to your office. I will handle this." He released him, and the mayor nervously adjusted the lapel of his suit jacket.

He looked as though he was about to speak but thought better of it, and left hurriedly with two guards at his heel.

"Thomas-" Penny began.

"Not right now." The ghoul strode back inside the doorway, halting at a reasonable distance for Evelyn not to feel the effects. He sighed, and set his hands deep inside of his black trenchcoat pockets. "When you're well enough to walk, you will be escorted outside of the city, and you will never come back here. Do you understand?"

There was no emotion in her face as she stared at him, and Thomas felt Darcy's eyes look into his own. He had never seen her this way before. A parting gift, from the blonde ghost.

When she spoke, he could almost hear Darcy's voice. "She came for you, didn't she?"

Ten Years Ago

"There is a ghoul by the name of Thomas Ridges here. Take me to him."

"Look, lady, he's a busy man. Would appreciate it if you didn't-" The lone ghoul sentry was cut off by a pat on the back.

"Shift is up; I got this one." The pink ghoul gave a wink.

"Thanks, Penny. All yours." The sentry then spun around and marched away.

Penny squinted up at the bounty hunter lighting up a cigarette; the smoothskin woman at his elbow was staring at her as though she would consume her; it made her shiver.

"Been awhile, Cross." She coughed. "What's it been- three, four years?"

The merc shrugged; a curl of smoke wafted from his nostrils. "Somethin' like that." He studied her for a moment. "You look good."

If the pink ghoul could blush, she would've been on fire. Those faded hazel eyes always seemed to make her feel whole again; she suddenly remembered their last day together, and she had to distract herself from growing faint. "Workin'?"

The bounty hunter gave a nod of his head to the woman beside him. "Thomas around?"

Penny blinked, crossing her arms over her chest. "He is…he's now head of security, actually." Her hazy emerald eyes flitted over. "We don't normally allow smoothskins into the city; it isn't safe."

"Tell him Darcy is here for him." The bladed edge of her words cut through the air between them, and Penny felt regret at taking the shift fifteen minutes early. "He'll come."

"I'll be sure and make it up to you." The merc took a drag and winked at her, and quite suddenly Penny found herself at the door of Thomas's office.

After a light knock, she entered. "Sorry, sir, there's a smoothskin woman at the gate by the name of Darcy-?"

The ghoul had already made his way past her before she could finish.

The Present

Thomas had a dark look settled on his face, ignoring her question. "Will you leave willingly?"

"Not until you tell me."

An exasperated sigh. "Why? What can you gain from this? It's been ten years, Evelyn, she is gone- move on."

"No."

"Evelyn-"

"I can't move on!" she cried out at him. "You left me, Darcy…I had nothing- fucking nothing, Thomas, for years! I thought I had grieved and left it all behind me…and then…and then-" Her voice strained as she continued. "-she…she waited, she fucking waited for me; I found her journal…from her- from her…about a year ago…I don't know how she did it, but she did- she won't let me go." The tears fell to her lap, but she didn't bother wiping them away. "Did she do this to you?"

No one spoke as she sat there and cried silently.

The glowing ghoul held her gaze, afraid to let go. "No…someone else, did."

Ten Years Ago

The merc didn't even know she had his knife. How she had managed to filch it from his person and him not even realize- she was right, he was weighed down.

The blade whisked through the air in a very precise manner; Thomas had dodged to the side just as Cross went to grab at her wrists. The blade made an arc as he stooped forward for her and slashed deeply across his face. Blood coated down in a thin sheet as he grunted in pain and stumbled backward.

Darcy wasn't fazed; she lunged just as Thomas regained his bearings and disarmed her effectively.

Cross was breathing heavily on his knees to the side; his face was on fire. Penny had come around and was speaking in rushed, panicked tones as she crouched; her fingers were at her emergency first-aid pack strapped to her backside.

Darcy then began to scream; a piercing cry full of fury and heartbreak, and it was the first and last time the bounty hunter had ever heard emotion in her voice.

The Present

"Who?"

Thomas didn't know what to say to her. All eyes were on him now, and he rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his palm. "It was a ghoul bounty hunter by the name of Cross- it was a long time ago…" He couldn't meet her stare; he was afraid of what he might find. When he finally mustered his courage, he stole a glance at her.

She was inwardly fighting an internal battle, and she looked as though she was about to break down into tears again; her canine sunk into her bottom lip, and a crimson streak dripped off of her chin and into her hands.

Charon came before her, wiping away the blood roughly with a thumb tip. "I strongly advise against this; we should leave."

"I can't," she whispered at him, cupping his palm against her cheek with her own.

Thomas squinted at the interaction between them, but he didn't want to believe the possible implication it had. She may have missed him, but she did not love him, anymore. The glowing ghoul felt an internal bloom of air exhale through him, and he realized he felt rather relieved.

A deep, sardonic laugh sounded in her throat. "So, what else did Cross do in this city?"

Ten Years Ago

The merc couldn't believe his fucking luck. Out of all of the women in the wasteland to leave such a mark on him, her?

He bent over the side of the sink and splashed irradiated water over his person, growling loudly to himself. The damage had yet to be fully assessed once the bandaging covering half the side of his face was removed. One eye angrily roved in its socket at him; he punched the mirror with a closed fist and effectively shattered it. Hundreds of smaller eyes were now staring back at him in the basin.

"Hey, you-" Penny was in the doorway, her fingers lightly resting upon the doorframe.

"Where is she?"

Penny gulped; he sounded pissed. "She's…she's at the police station, in a holding cell."

The ghoul took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eye. After a moment, he stood straight and grabbed his jaw with one hand, making a swift motion to crack his neck. "Take me to her."

The Present

Her eyes were piercing blue as they tore a hole through him, and he tilted his head at her hostility.

"Do you know him?" he snapped.

She fought to maintain her façade of anger, but then quickly dissolved into bitter tears.

"Evelyn, look at me." The absolutely deathly tone of his voice made her snap her jaw shut, and she openly stared at him with her heart breaking across her face. "Tell me what you came here for."

"Why did you never come back for me?"

The glowing ghoul gave a soft snort, redirecting his gaze to the floor. His tone had grown gentle. "Do you think I would want you to be with me in this way?"

"So?!" The utter disbelief in her tone made him bristle.

"Dear God- look at you right now! Evelyn, you're going to need some more radaway when we're done talking! I would slowly kill you!" Thomas shouted at her.

"I know, I'm sorry."

Ten Years Ago

Thomas tapped a finger to his forehead. "You must either not think, or choose not to." He then stood and stared out of the window. "It was very unwise of you to come here with her."

The merc barked out a hateful laugh. "Yeah, well, you should know how damn stubborn she is; she was comin' here one way or another…so, who is she to you?"

A memory; Thomas's eyes flitted down to the scene of the city. He ignored the question.

"You know why she's here?" The merc fiddled for a smoke.

A moment of silence, and then, "I do."

"You care to share?"

"…do you?"

The bounty hunter busied himself with lighting up a cigarette, making his own move in outright avoiding the subject. "I'm already damn near ripped open as it is."

A vibrato of a laugh. "Darcy always parted ways in a dramatic fashion." Thomas turned to regard the merc. "Why did you bring her here?"

An exhale of smoke. "Seein' you two have some sort of history, ask her yourself."

The Present

She licked her chapped lips. "Why did she kill herself?"

The glowing ghoul hesitated, and she noticed.

"Thomas, why?"

"She…she- where is her journal?" he poorly redirected.

"I burned it." They held each other's gaze, and he understood. "Answer me, why?"

"Sir!"

All heads turned to the ghoul behind the doorway.

"What is it? It better be important," Thomas rasped.

"Another two smoothskins are at the gates- the girl refuses to leave-"

Thomas snapped his eyes to her face, not withholding his irritation. "Friends, I gather?"

Evelyn was about to refute his claims when the ferryman gave a tired sigh, and she threw him a puzzled glance.

Charon cracked his knuckles. "I told her to go back."

Evelyn immediately stood upright, then clutched at her head as her world began to swim violently. "That…has to be fucking Lydia-" she groaned, looking to her past lover. "Thomas, they're with us-"

"I will go-" Charon rasped, busily replacing her radaway bag for a fresh one.

Despite himself, Thomas observed the crimson ghoul with interest. "Penny- go with him. Bring them back here and keep them in the conference room; they can wait for us to finish and they can all leave together." Thomas stepped out; the ferryman began to depart until his hand was grabbed.

He turned to her, and she nodded wearily at him. "I'm sorry; this is all my fault."

Charon drew a finger flush under her chin and lifted her face towards his. "It cannot be helped; you are stubborn and stupid." He lifted her to sit back on the gurney and then left; the glowing ghoul filled the doorway once more.

Thomas shoved his hands deep inside of his pockets. "So, who was that?"

"Charon," Evelyn said weakly; a strained smile was given. "Of Styx."

"The Ferryman?" The glowing ghoul gave an amused snort. "How fitting."

Evelyn gave a half-hearted laugh, and Thomas was suddenly reeling through his memories with her. It was, unreal, her being here, with him.

Apparently, she thought the same. "Do…do you remember, when we were reading The Yearling, and- and I had snuck out to try and catch a radstag?" Her eyes were suddenly twinkling at him, any remnant of Darcy had simply washed out with her ocean tide.

"Yes." Thomas crossed his arms, squinting at her. "You broke your arm, that day…"

"And I told her I fell down the stairs-"

"You were always such a bad liar."

"I mean, it was some form of truth! Merely tripping and falling over sounds a lot more stupid." She grinned at him.

Thomas sighed, but he was smiling. "Trying to catch a radstag barehanded is stupid."

She was laughing fully now, and she covered her face with her hand as the sound embodied the room.

He looked off to the side. "I am sorry…I wish it had been different."

"It's fine, it was my fault, anyway."

Thomas snorted. "She was bound to find out."

She then looked at him with such sadness he felt the overwhelming urge to embrace her like a hundred times before. "I wish she hadn't."


Penny had to keep giving a short hop and skip to keep up with the ferryman's bounding stride as he walked purposefully back to the front gate. The crimson ghoul wanted nothing more than for them to leave. The rain was pouring sideways; the wind had picked up and was howling like forlorn cries at their heels. Invisible eyes stalked the pair from behind closed windows as they marched to the sounds of shouting.

"Okay, whoa whoa whoa, it's just a misunderstanding is all-"

"Then get ahold of your damn friend here before she gets a bullet-"

Penny burst into a sprint, holding her hands up. "Hey, hey! Thomas has granted them access- they're coming with us."

One of the ghoul sentries growled, reluctantly lowering his rifle below his armored chest. "This is some bullshit, Penny."

"Come here." Charon grabbed Lydia by the collar roughly, dragging her to his side and pointing threateningly at Campbell. "What happened?"

Before the blonde mercenary could explain his regretful expression, Lydia violently shrugged herself from his grip; Charon turned his wrathful ire down upon her. The water dripped over the sides of her shaved head, and she wiped a hand over the dark stubble.

"You can't just leave us like that! It's not fair!" she yelled over the whistling of the wind.

A growl. Charon seized her by the elbow and proceeded to drag her through the torrenting flood in the streets, ignoring her half-drowned protesting.


POP!

A stumble, and the merc groaned as he leaned against the two-hundred-year-old car frame. Relatively, he was just as ancient as the support he was inclined against, as his knees so gratefully reminded him every once in a while. The pace he had set himself was grueling, and he was already exhausted from the rough travel he had pushed himself with. Braxton was still almost a day's journey ahead of him, and the overwhelming sensation of induced panic kept his feet stomping against the pavement of the road.

They had to be at Braxton at this point- a small part of him selfishly hoped they had met with some inconvenience and delayed, but the cold rattle through his bones intuitively told him otherwise.

Evelyn's journal was carefully tucked inside of his jacket pocket, and he was sure she would rip out his page and burn it when she had discovered the truth. Regardless, if he could perhaps just see her, even if it really was for the last time…

...just once.


The door opened; Campbell and a ruddy-faced Lydia strode inside, their escorting ferryman taking his place against the wall. They seated themselves and were dripping water all over the floor. Evelyn tapped her fingers rhythmically against the conference tabletop, her eyes never left Thomas's as he stood far enough away on the other side of the room.

Evelyn snorted at the drenched mercenary. "I'm starting to think saving you the first go-round was just a waste of time."

"Whoa, now, Cazador- this fellow still very much appreciates not becoming mutant food; haven't forgotten it." He shook his hands briskly through his hair.

"Which reminds me-" Evelyn gave a hard look to the glowing ghoul, and he narrowed his eyes at her scathing glare. "-who's the slave trader you have in this city? I was put on the docket just recently- so, either way, I was coming here."

Thomas blinked, completely taken unaware. "Wait, what?"

"Do you not know? Aren't you head of security, or something…did you really have no idea?"

The glowing ghoul was about to open his mouth when the door opened for a second time.

"Mayor, you can't just-!"

Rick strolled inside irritably, pointing a finger directly at Evelyn. "I would like a word, alone, now."

Charon kicked away from his spot; Thomas was about to shove the dark green ghoul back out the door when Evelyn cut off his route. He paused in step before he came too close.

"Fine." She shrugged her shoulders, swiping her braid over her shoulder.

"No," both ghouls ground out harmoniously, and Evelyn whirled her head between the two of them.

"Oh, for crying out loud," she snapped, and she gave a curt nod. "Lead on."

"Evelyn-" Charon began, and she glared at him, slamming the door behind herself before he could follow.


By the time they had reached the town hall, she was completely drenched from the freezing rain. Her white shirt was soaked through and clung to every curve of her torso, and she shivered in her seat as she waited for the mayor to return. Feeling self-conscious in her exposing attire, she kept her leather jacket on, despite the chill she felt from it being sopping wet.

A forced cough to her side, and she snapped her head up at one of the mayor's bodyguards offering her his jacket. "You look cold," he awkwardly said.

"I'm freezing." Her teeth chattered together loudly, and she promptly removed her outwear and nestled herself inside the overly warm coat the sentry held out to her. "You're a Godsend. Thank you."

The ghoul rubbed the back of his head, slightly embarrassed, and returned to standing against the wall; he ignored his comrade's lethal stare.

"Both of you- out." A snap of fingers. "And close the door behind you."

Click

Evelyn curiously regarded the green ghoul as he came to stand before her, perching himself on the edge of his desk with his hands folded in his lap. Two index fingers pointed at her face.

"Evelyn, was it?" he rasped.


"Just calm down!"

Charon snarled, and he reached a hand behind himself and directed the barrel of his shotgun at Thomas's forehead. "Move."

The glowing ghoul appeared unfazed, and just dug his hands farther into their pockets as he barred the door. "You shoot me, and you're not leaving this city alive." Neon eyes flitted around to the two still seated in their chairs. "I will go and bring her back; try and not go around shooting up my department. I will leave Penny outside the door."

They were left to themselves, and Charon paced fumingly. Sure, Evelyn was capable, but it was still a dangerous city; it would be easy to disappear into.


"Drink?" The ghoul opened a decanter of amber liquid, tilting it at her before he began to pour.

"No."

"Suit yourself." The ghoul squinted at the raging storm outside of his bay windows. "It would appear you could use a little pick-me-up; seeing as how you're drenched, and all." A cup full of bourbon sloshed around in its glass prison as he set it into his hand.

"I'm fine."

The mayor went to stand before the windows, taking a long drink and giving a gasp of pleasure as the alcohol burned a river of fire down his throat. "What is the exact reason you decided to step foot into my city?"

Evelyn shifted in her seat. "Darcy Lackins."

A hum of confirmed suspicion. "Her daughter, am I correct?"

When he was met with silence, he turned on his heel and sauntered back behind his desk, fiddling with a hand inside of one suit pant pocket. His fingers rolled over his golden pocket watch as he studied her facial expression. It was void.

"Do you know?" Rick regarded her face carefully, his words tense.

"What?"

"How she died?"