Ten Years Ago

"If you just want to give me five seconds with her, she won't be your problem anymore." Cross blew out a stream of smoke.

Thomas was thoughtfully thinking to himself, running a hand through his patchy, dark hair. "As far as I'm concerned, you have fulfilled your end of the bargain with her." He brought his hands down to his sides and turned towards the merc. "She is in Braxton custody now."

The mercenary rolled his eye and stormed out of the building, muttering to himself vehemently. He scratched at the bandaging across his face; it should be time to remove it. A hand brushed his shoulder. "Hey, Penny...sorry 'bout earlier."

"I suppose I would be upset too if I were in your shoes...you staying for the night?" The rosy ghoul asked behind him, watching him begin to unwrap the linen. It fell to his feet, and he rubbed the heel of his palm over the fresh scar he was earned. He blinked his left eye a few times, counting his lucky stars that it had been savable.

An exhale of white smoke; he turned to her. "You off shift?"

When Penny awoke that next morning, she quietly rose from her bed, careful not to disturb the snoring bounty hunter. She quickly dressed and went down to the station; the smoothskin woman was sitting deathly quiet in her cell. Penny left to perform her daily guard shift at the gates. The thought of the merc being back in town, despite the altercations from the day before, made the day go by quickly.

He was drunk, and awaiting her in bed fully naked by the time she returned; she simply undressed and complied to his erotic demands. By the next morning, he was the first one to leave, and she bit down the rising disappointment she felt in her throat.

The Present

Evelyn's mask of stone held up perfectly; God's hand had sculpted her without flaw. "She killed herself- is that true?"

"Who told you that?" The mayor squinted, looking down into his glass as he swirled its contents around in an alcoholic whirlpool. His bleary eyes then looked up to her and held her stare. "Did a certain bounty hunter tell you this?"

Evelyn felt a crack in her passive portrait when the double doors flew open, banging loudly against the wall. A familiar, irradiated glow illuminated behind her.

The sentry held up a hand. "Sorry, sir, but-"

"Evelyn, come with me," Thomas rasped, and he gave a warning look to the mayor sitting at his desk. A ghoul woman came in behind him, and she was trembling.

"Rick, I've been looking-" Her words garbled in her throat as Evelyn stood and turned around, beginning to shrug out of the borrowed clothing the sentry had lent her. "Who the fuck is this?"

Every man sighed, and Evelyn just raised an eyebrow as she fastened her damp jacket.

"Carmen, you know when I'm working-" Rick began, and the woman threw her hands dramatically in the air as she tramped towards him.

"A fucking smoothskin?! What the fuck is she-"

The doors were then shut behind them, curbing the shouting to a muffle.

"Thank you." Evelyn gave the guard back his jacket, and he just nodded at her. She followed Thomas silently to the front steps of the town hall; the storm whipped at everything.

"I would give you my jacket, if it didn't risk ghoulification," Thomas half-joked.

She said nothing, and just marched down the steps without him, stopping about halfway and raising her face to the sky.


They entered the conference room, and she went to stand behind Charon as a sopping mess, not caring to wipe the stray drops from her face.

The ferryman didn't know what to think.

"The storm has appeared to have gotten worse; if I allow you to stay the night in the city, you will have armed guards standing watch outside of your quarters to ensure no disorderly conduct, from your side and mine. Are we clear?" Thomas gave a nod, his eyes lingering on Evelyn's expressionless face for a few moments. He cleared his throat, and she raised her eyes to him. "Clear?"

Nothing.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "I went ahead and took liberties of having rooms reserved for you; we don't get too many visitors passing through, so there's plenty of space." He indicated for them all to follow.


"I will come back in the morning. If there is word of any trouble, I will return, and I will not be happy." The glowing ghoul took one last look at his past lover, but she refused to meet his eyes. He inwardly growled at himself, and just strode away on his heel with Penny at his side. The rosy ghoul kept her eyes down.

"Well, this is one day for the books." Campbell gave an awkward laugh, shaking his head at the tense atmosphere and retiring to his room.

Lydia gave a frightened glance to the sentry standing at the end of the hallway.

"It is fine. Just do not leave your room, for any reason, unless it is one of us. Understand?" The ferryman crossed his arms down at her, and she gave a simple nod, disappearing behind her door.

Evelyn had turned and was inside of her room, leaving the doorway wide open as she began to strip.

The ferryman closed the door behind himself. "Are you well?" The question felt hollow, and he worriedly observed her disappear into the bathroom. The shower turned on and steam began to curl out.

"I have noticed the water in this city is irradiated. Please try and limit your time, in there." He called out to her behind the shower curtain, and he anxiously paced around.

He muttered nonsense and stood against the closed doorframe, tapping his index finger against his bicep as she finally exited. A creak as she laid in bed on one side, her back to him as she curled into herself and stared at the wall.

His head was now in his hands; he didn't know what to say to her.

"Did I make the right choice?" she whispered, and her voice floated to his ears with such a sad tune he instinctively came to her side. There were tears running down her face. "I don't know what to do anymore, big guy."

His muscled body took a knee before her, and he folded her into his chest, pressing her body flush against him. "You are okay."

"But-"

"Evelyn, look at me." He sat her upright; his palms were cupped around her shoulder blades as he propped her up. "If you wish to leave; we shall leave."

"I can't-"

"Quiet," he growled. "There is nothing here worth your life."

Her head tilted forward slightly, the wet hair hanging like ropes. "I'm so afraid."

"Evelyn-" He released her and brought his hands up to her face and pressed his forehead flush against hers. "I will always keep you safe."

"Is that what you told Adam?" she whispered.

A choke, and he quickly turned away from her as he felt his chest grow tight. Damn him if this was going to happen a second time in his life; his soul couldn't handle it. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her with his hands in his lap. "…it was."

A rustle as she crawled towards him, embracing him from behind; her breasts fell firm through her damp shirt against his back. His hands came up and rubbed against hers clasped across his chest. "I'm sorry."

The weight of her chin anchored on his shoulder, and he turned his head to look at her. "Evelyn, we should have never come here."

She slowly rolled away from him. "Conversation is over."

The ferryman growled. "No, it isn't."

Evelyn gave a false laugh; he did not like the sound. "Oh no, Charon's angry- he's using contractions."

He turned threateningly towards her. "Why are we here? What are you risking your life for?"

Her face was ablaze with rage. "Charon…I'm just, just-" She got to her feet and angrily paced around the room. "Why the fuck did you come back to me, after Lake Capers?"

The flames of his eyes were lit. "Because you asked me to, Evelyn."

"No, I didn't."

The ferryman gave a very loud, annoyed sigh, going to stand as he reached inside his armored gear. With a crinkle, the letter she had bestowed upon him in Lake Capers was shoved at her. "Yes, you did."

The fires of her fury were blown away, and she held her hand to her mouth in disbelief at him. Her lips then drew together in a hard line, and she reached her hand back and slapped him. "You fuck!"

Charon took the hit; the slap stung.

"I didn't want to leave you behind, Charon! I really didn't, but-bu-" She ran her hands wildly through her hair, unsure of how to continue her train of thought.

"I love you, Evelyn." The ghoul said it so matter-of-factly Evelyn squeaked and sputtered at him.

"What!?"

"I do." He waited for her to calm down, and she finally braced herself against the wall of the room, tremoring violently. He assumed she was crying, until he heard the sound of laughter rising from her throat. "It is not funny."

"Like hell it's not- what the fuck do you mean you love me?!" She snapped her jaw shut with an audible click and glared away angrily. "Fuck you."

"Please, Evelyn." His tone was desperate; if she was this angry over him, she might be tempted to leave him again. "I…I know you love me as well."

She gasped at his presumption, and then she caved in and burst into tears. "You can't do this to me, Charon!" She performed a half-pivot, swinging a closed fist back to smash the side of the wall. Charon swiftly intercepted and firmly grabbed her wrist from behind.

"No-no," he chastised, feeling her tremble under his touch. His thumb stroked the backside of her hand. "You love him, do you not?"

She was sobbing, her fist still clenched. "…yes." She then furiously wiped away at her mess. "But he doesn't feel the same."

Charon snorted down at her. "I do not think that is true."

"He told me he doesn't."

The ferryman released her gently, grabbing the underside of her chin and tilting her head back so she would be forced to look at him. Those eyes glowed down at her. "What can I do to make you happy?"

A tumble of hair as she shook her head. "I, I want you to do what makes you happy, Charon. I'm…I'm just selfish." She hiccupped. "A goddamn, stupid child."

"Yes, you are," he agreed resolutely with her. Her crying immediately ceased as she stared at him scathingly, and he grumbled in a laugh. "Please, let us go to bed; you are tired…" He then leaned down and firmly kissed her forehead, and his fingers began to unbuckle his gear.


It was two am.

The steady wave of her breathing gently tickled the exposed veins of his left bicep as her head was cradled against him. The tips of his fingers were tracing a physical map of her face; there was a winding road down the arch of her nose.

A curve of her lower lip, and his thumb paused in its mindless journey as it traversed smooth skin for scarred. There was a mental note filed away in his ever-thinking brain that he would need to address the issue of her constant biting. He did not like the way she inflicted pain upon herself in times of great stress.

The air between them was clear, for the moment. Charon was sure he would feel, some sort of relief at his confession…but he just felt, scared.

Charon, does anything ever scare you? Of course not, what am I thinking?! You're a dang superghoul! A turn of his patchy head; the Lone Wanderer was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed with a wide, cheer-cracking smile on his lips. The blue and yellow faded outline of his vault suit was just barely visible with his adjusted vision in the dark; he had not seen that outfit in a very, long time. A blink, and the hallucination was gone.

A grumble escaped his lips, and he turned his glowing eyes back down to Evelyn's peaceful face. There was no way on earth he could lose her, too; it would kill him. One ghost was bothersome enough…but two? His left hand was subconsciously roving under the recess of her shirt, traveling across the skin of her waist and down across her thighs. She shivered, momentarily disturbed from her dreams, and he quickly halted his actions, completely caught unaware of his thoughtless caressing.

There was a low growl; he needed to stop. A reach down, and his right hand grasped over her right knee and gently moved it from between his thighs. There was a muffled murmur of discontent that escaped her lips, but she did not wake. With minor adjustments, he cupped the back of her head into his large palm and lifted her carefully as he finished freeing himself. When he was finally left standing at the side of their bed, he rubbed at his eyes and muttered to himself as he began to redress.

Clink. The last of his buckles were slid into place, and he heard their door open. The ghoul who had just taken shift at the end of the hall was in a crumple on the floor; Charon's eyes narrowed as a large, shadowed figure filled their doorway. The ferryman's vision was excellent in the dark...he had not seen that face since-

Charon automatically reached for his shotgun, pumping the stock and waking his employer from her sleep. Evelyn blinked in confusion as her slumber still muddled her thoughts, and she held a hand up to him- a nonverbal order to wait.

"If you wish to see Darcy, you will come with me," the ghoul rasped at her. A pair of glowing orbs disappeared for a moment as he blinked at his contracted counterpart. "Alone."

Charon growled lowly in his throat, indicating his thoughts on the offer.

Evelyn was biting her lower lip, and then fumbled for her clothes. "Wait for me outside- I'll come."

The door closed, and she glanced at Charon with despondent eyes; he did not like the look.

"I'll be back," she whispered as she shrugged into a tightfitting shirt, and he grabbed at her forearm.

"You are not leaving," he growled at her, not bothering to hide his wrath. "There's no fucking way."

She held his hand, bringing his knuckles up to her lips and kissing them gently. "My ferryman waits for me, upon the shore-"

His eyes widened.

"I call to him, a coin, I have, and nothing more-" She rubbed his palm against her cheek. "My ferryman's eyes glow like coals as he takes my hand-"

He bent himself down to her as she lifted herself forward on the tips of her toes, and she kissed him softly. "He says, 'Come with me, come with me, to this strange new land'."

"Evelyn."

Another kiss, and it was desperate. He dropped his shotgun and cupped the side of her face, carefully handling her as though she were made of glass. His other wrapped around the base of her lower back, and he pulled her close to himself as they exchanged unspoken words with the love on their lips.

"Please, Charon. Let me go," she murmured softly, her fingers traveling down along the road of his arms.

Charon, it's okay…you can let me go.

His breathing grew heavy; his conditioning didn't dare allow him to make another unwarranted move without her permission. There was a shake of his head- he would follow her to the ends of the earth before he let her go.

"Evelyn-" His fingers slightly tightened their purchase on her; he was afraid she would simply vanish if he did not physically make sure she was tangible.

Maybe- if he just-

"Kiss me," he rasped deeply.

There was a final exchange of their lips, but it was not with the same urgency. It was smooth, and comforting. He was fucked- he had lost the war. He was now going to follow her till the end of time; no matter the choices she made, or the obstacles she faced. Charon would be at the oar of their boat down the river she paid the toll to travel along; love amongst the swells of death whose claws harried at the hull.

They parted, but their faces were close enough together that his lips brushed against hers as he spoke. "Do you love me?" he huskily asked.

There was a pause as her blue eyes, wide in the dark, looked for something in his own. "I will always love you…thank you for coming with me, to the end."

This looks like the end of the road, huh? I…thank you for traveling with me, Charon. I love you, man. I know you'll be okay…The Lone Wanderer was standing behind her, his arms limp at his sides and his expression…sad.

Charon's eyes went wide, and he shook slightly, licking his lips as he stood a little upright. "This is not the end…Evelyn-" His fingers were exploring the skin of her lower backside; one hand gripped the outside of her thigh. "-let me come with you, do not leave me alone."

"You are not alone, Charon." Her hands reached up for his face, and he bent down so she may find purchase with her touch. "A part of me will always be with you."

He was internally panicking now. The Lone Wanderer was so clear; Charon could make out the freckles splashed across his face.

"Please come back to me." His voice prayed to her, soft and raspy. His eyes closed for a moment as he turned his head to kiss the inside of her wrist.

"Charon." With a shuddering breath, he opened his eyes. "I order you to wait until morning…if I have not returned by then-" Her voice hitched in her throat. "-I want you to tell, um-" A small exhale as she forced herself to remain resolute. "-tell Cross that…I'm sorry." She kissed his cheek. "Goodbye, my Ferryman."

She finished getting dressed, and Adam walked her to the door, turning back around and giving a small wave. Charon was no longer in their room; he was no longer in Braxton.

The door to the purifier closed.

Goodbye, my friend.

One Year Ago

"Oh, that's just mean ol' Charon." Moira Brown gave a bizarrely cheerful wave of her hand to the sulking ghoul in the corner. "He doesn't talk much…actually-" A fingertip was placed on her chin, and a light tap was given. "I don't know if I've ever heard him talk at all. Charon!" The ghoul's head immediately snapped upright. "Can you speak?" Her words were spoken loudly, and deliberately slow. "Are-You-Capable-Of-Speech?"

Charon gave a rather murderous glare to his employer, before shifting his weight to the other foot and grumbling incoherent nonsense.

A chuckle was her only response, and she leaned her elbow on the counter and gave a shrug to the other woman. "I guess I just found myself a new experiment to tinker on!"

Evelyn exchanged a glance with the ghoul, and they simply held each other's gaze for a few moments before she gave a snort, redirecting her attention back to the woman behind Craterside Supply's counter.

"Is he a mercenary, or something? I haven't seen too many ghouls in this town…besides the one in the bar." Evelyn picked up a piece of electrical equipment on the edge of the table, and she felt the ghoul's eyes stalking her every move.

Moira dusted her hands together, smudging the previous grime only further. "Nah- Charon…uh-" She gave a pause, and then leaned over the counter, cupping one hand around her mouth and whispering ironically loudly. "-he used to be in service to Adam…you know, the Lone Wanderer? Hero of the Wastes? Our dang Messiah?!"

Evelyn just shook her head dumbly, being quite new to the Capital Wasteland.

"Oh, well- Adam's…gone, like, gone gone…and he kind of, ended up here. Adam had a house here, which, if you're actually looking for some property at the moment-"

"Can I hire Charon?" Evelyn said rather loudly, flitting her eyes to the ghoul in his corner. His expression was stoic, but nonetheless, his gaze looked to that of his employer's.

Moira gave a surprised cough and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, um…hmmmmmm." She scratched at her scalp. "I was looking forward to studying the day and night cycle of a ghoul's REM pattern- Charon doesn't sleep, like…at all…but-" She turned around, rummaging through a small safe and holding up a folded piece of paper. "-I think it would be good for him…to get away." The paper was laid flat on the countertop and slid forward. "Here's his contract, read it carefully…and take care of the big guy, will you?"


Gob slammed his hand down before the ex-raider. "Don't," he warned, "unless you don't want to keep your nuts attached, you'll leave her be. I know Charon, and the kid ain't with him, anymore. He won't hold back."

"Fuck you, shuffler." The smarmy drunk let loose a gasp, spittle dribbling down one side of his lips. A burp, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, rising from his seat. "You already made this bar turn to shit without Nova, you ain't going to keep me from getting some sweet pussy…not like you know what that's like."

Charon locked eyes with him as he made his approach, and the ghoul leaned forward and gave a growl in warning. Jericho suddenly dug up all the buried accounts of when he had verbally degraded the ghoul; he didn't understand why zombies were allowed in Megaton in the first place…all due and thanks to that damn kid. But he was dead and gone, and yet, the crimson ghoul had made his way back into the shithole of a town…wasn't so much of an eyesore when he was locked away in Miss Nutjob's store, but now he was running free and back in the limelight...thankfully, with some attractive company.

"Hey doll." Jericho took the liberty of granting himself a seat at their table, and he displayed his horrid set of teeth as Evelyn raised an eyebrow at his assertiveness. "Whatcha drinking? It's on me."

A scrunch of her forehead as she regarded him with some damn fetching eyes. She was pretty, and his mind was beginning to delude itself into graphic imagery of them fucking.

"No," she said simply, and she turned her eyes back down to the letter she was reading.

A grunt; he had been rejected before, plenty of times, actually (not that he would ever honestly admit that to himself) but she was so…dismissive. It battered the nose of his internal blood-lusting fiend.

"…how about a beer, and some friendly conversation?" he attempted again; he could not get the fantasy of her underneath him out of his head. "No one interestin' comes through this town too often; humor me."

"Humor yourself," she snapped, not bothering to look up. "I'm going to assume you know Charon here, so leave, or he'll be more than happy to assist you."

The ferryman provided brevity to her words; he rose from his chair, towering over the ex-raider with palpable menace.

Jericho gave a grotesque smile, holding up his hands in a small fashion of surrender as the sound of his own seat skidded across the floor. "Easy now, I was only being friendly…I know when I'm not wanted."

His internal fiend was now raging at her inside of a bruised and aged body; if he had been just twenty years younger, he would have creamed that rotting prick along the floor and just bent her over the table and had his way with her.

At least, that's what he comforted himself with. The door to the saloon opened, and the ex-raider shot the barkeep a nasty glare as Gob simply shook his head at his failed endeavor.

After the man had exited, Charon gave a throaty sigh and plunked back down on the bench; a massive forearm came to rest on the table, his fingers tapping rhythmically along the wood.

She was chewing the end of her braid as she devoured his contract, and he glanced around the room. The Lone Wanderer's ghost was seated at the bar counter; a failed conversation being had with the former prostitute Nova- he was clumsily awkward, and she merely laughed at his bashful nature.

A turn of his head; the kid was now accusing Moriarty of wasteland crimes, talking loudly in detail with the sheriff at his back. The previous bar owner was relieved of his citizenship in Megaton…no one knew where the scumbag had gone off to after he disappeared on the horizon, although, he did leave a parting gift of some Talon mercenaries to greet them down the line.

There he was now, belligerently drunk after a drinking contest with Billy Creel, slurring words to a song on the radio as he line-danced solo to the beat of clapping hands; a goofy, handsome grin plastered on his face. Charon was forced to carry him under one arm just to get him back to his room, that night.

"What is it that you do, exactly?" The question snapped him back to reality, and he inhaled sharply after realizing he had been holding his breath.

He looked down at her face, and he noticed his hand had clenched into a tight fist. His fingers were digging into the soft leather of his gloves, firmly enough to form indents. Immediately, he released his tension, drawing his arm back and anchoring his palms inside his lap.

"I am sorry," he mumbled under his breath.

"Are…are you alright? You look…sad." There was the tone of concern coloring her voice, and he snorted.

"I am fine." Was all he said, and then he remembered her former question. "I take it you have finished reading my contract." His tone was completely void of emotion, but his eyes burned into hers as he met with her stare. Her eyes were so…blue.

He made a mental note to himself to be more careful in his proceedings with her, if the ex-raider had anything to foreshadow. The wasteland was dangerous for women…and especially ones with attractive features.

"I have." She folded it carefully, tucking it away inside an inner pocket of her jacket.

"Then you know you are entitled to my combat services," his rasping voice rumbled. Another glance around the room; no new threats were detected. Gob kept throwing the pair strange ganders, and the ferryman met his curious stare with a dangerous one.

"Well, o-kay, sure." Evelyn was twiddling her thumbs together, and she appeared to want to say something more, but she bit her bottom lip before the words could make themselves heard. "Hold on."

She rose from her spot, and he dutifully waited for her as she made her way to the bar counter. An exchange of words was given, and two Nuka-Cola's were slid forward in a trade for some caps.

She plopped back into her seat, setting the two beverages down before her. "So, Charon, huh? Like the Ferryman…" She glanced up expectantly, but all he gave her in return was a void stare. "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…"

A small hand was extended out. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm being rude-I'm Evelyn." A wide smile followed.

With a grumble, he gave it a light shake, and his indifferent face cracked into bewilderment as she nearly crushed his hand. His fingers flexed after she had released him, her smile now a cheeky grin.

"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…" She held up an ice-cold bottle and waved it, then slid it to his elbow. "Will this Nuka Cola do instead?"