The merc was deathly quiet. He blinked in surprise when something warm wrapped around his hand.

"Let's take a bath and go to bed," Evelyn said softly. "This will still be here in the morning to take care of." She rounded her eyes on Lydia, who was watching her with utmost distrust. "I'll explain tomorrow. I know this must seem...weird."

"I should go downstairs," Cross sighed heavily, and he rubbed at his face.

"It can wait," Evelyn pressed.

"It really can't," Lydia snapped.

"It can," Evelyn began testily, "and it fucking will. I won't hear anything else about it. Is someone barging down the front door…no? Then go get some sleep, and it can be discussed in the morning."

Lydia felt the hostility weighing down on her, and she reluctantly backed off. Even with the change in hair, it could've fooled her into thinking this really was Evelyn. Of course, Can did elaborate on the incident in Goodneighbor…but there was no way. She hadn't aged a single fucking day.

Charon came to her side, placed a hand on her head, and ruffled her sweat-matted hair.

"It is her," he affirmed. Before Lydia could open her mouth to spew a hundred different questions, he held up a hand. "No. She is right. It can wait until the morning."

Evelyn began to pull at the merc. "Let's go. You smell like a molerats ass, more than you usually do."

Cross allowed himself to be led around the compound and did as he was told. He stripped from his clothes (which were in desperate need of a wash) and sank in the tub after it was filled. He released a guttural groan from deep within the pit of his chest, easing himself into the hot water that submerged his tired bones. Now that he had a moment of utterly nothing, the past few day's strain took its toll from the corner of his mind down to the tips of his toes.

"Really should go downstairs," he mumbled as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the ceramic.

"Tomorrow," Evelyn said simply, squeezing a rag of excess water and creating a sudsy layer of soap to lather him with. "Now shut up and relax."

He cracked an eye at her as she began to scrub his broad shoulders. "Could have you run this place."

She gave a haughty huff. "It wouldn't be such a mess, for one."

A low chuckle was his response. He savored the motion of her hands fondly toiling away over his body, easing the tension from his sore muscles until the water eventually became cold. When she took him by the hand up to their room, he promptly flopped on their bed and felt ready to pass out at a moment's notice. He latched an arm around her waist while she pulled her boots off.

"You're stayin' right here, right?" he asked quietly, not really cognizant of what he was saying. His eyes were closed; he couldn't keep them open.

She curled into his side. "Always."

It was fair to say…she panicked. The moment the air had hit her lungs and the sun kissed her visible patches of necrotic skin, Russel flew into a hellish blaze of sheer fucking panic. The boogeyman was real; she didn't want any part of this. She kept repeating the same mantra, over, and over, and over as she navigated through the backstreets of Boston's skeleton corridors.

It's all his fault. It's all his fault. It's all his fucking fault.

None of this would be happening if she had never been recruited- if he had never been the one to pick her out from the rest. There would be no crazy, searing itch at her flesh that would scratch off under fingerless nails if he hadn't been so stubborn to sleep with. If he had just stayed in the first place, taking care of her every ulterior whim while she sucked his dick and played nice enough for him to fondle her tits.

And now he was back.

This time…she wasn't going to fuck up. She was going to get her life back…he promised her it would be so.

The handcuffs jingled behind her back as she was escorted down the damp corridor with a gun directed at her head. It was her second time being through here- it was even more alien and hostile than before. A drift of laughter echoed with drops of condensed water that dripped off the pipes. It didn't sound like Lydia's voice, but it wasn't like she'd ever heard the woman laugh before.

"I told you we should've looked!" That was most definitely Lydia. "But noooo, we just had to fucking get sand in our cracks wandering around the fucking Mojave instead!"

Russel turned into the doorway of the merc's office, halted by a tight grip on her shoulder from behind. Her eyes widened at the sight of the ghoul that had been plaguing her waking thoughts and restless dreams- he had changed just as much as she had.

Cross pointed a finger threateningly at Lydia's face, growling. "I could've just left ya back in that burnin' shithole- don't make me fuckin' regret it."

"All he did was cry," Lydia bitterly continued. She pointedly ignored the merc's seething glower. "He was like a lost dog! Charon had to keep him on a tight fucking leash just so he wouldn't wander off some-"

There was a sudden clatter as the merc pounded a fist on the desk, his expression utterly ruthless and cold. "Fuckin' watch that mouth, kid."

"Cross."

A woman that Russel did not recognize walked around the side of his desk to gently lay a hand on his shoulder. The merc's hostile aura immediately cooled; he grumbled something unintelligible, grabbing at her hand with his own and bringing it to his mouth.

Russel was forced to watch quietly as they then shared a kiss; there was a jarring flutter in her stomach from watching the two of them interact. The ghoul definitely hadn't kissed her like that…hell, he didn't even look at anyone with anything less than a snarl, but now, it was almost as though he were an entirely different person, kissing this woman so tenderly and staring at her in a way that made her blush.

So, this was the keeper of that journal, the mystery pencil portrait in those stained pages, the code of writing on that Pip-Boy, and the entire reason she was in this fucking mess. This had to be Evelyn…her one-way ticket out of this living Hell. Russel stared at their hands and the shimmering rings adorned on them.

"Get a room," Lydia griped loudly from the side, and it startled her from her thoughts. Lydia then grimaced as the ghoul dove his tongue down Evelyn's throat. "Gross."

"Alrightalright." The merc swiped an arm around Evelyn's waist and plopped her into his lap. He finally redirected his attention to the door and gave Can a subtle nod of his head.

Can butted her between the shoulder blades with the barrel of his rifle; all eyes in the room seemed to spear right through her wherever they landed. Lydia directed such a hateful stare at her it made her knees shake. She felt the intense aura of the giant ghoul from the dark corner where the flickering lights didn't seem to reach…she felt sick.

She suddenly didn't want to be here.

The journey of her feet came to a halt a few feet from his desk. She had been averting her eyes to the ground, too afraid to look at his face and see the malice that would be directed at her. There was a small part of her that hoped perhaps her new situation would garner some sort of sympathy, or enough to keep a bullet at bay, at least.

"Let me ask you somethin'." The merc leaned back in his chair, somehow still incredibly intimidating even though one hand was buried in golden hair and the other was caressing the topside of her knees. "You know just what the fuck it is that I do to those that double-cross me?"

She met the look in his eyes…and he still looked at her as though nothing about her had changed. Like the skin hanging from her right cheek was still smooth and adorned with freckles. As though her hair wasn't falling out in clumps, or her sockets were beginning to sink. Despite the villainous resentment he smoldered at her, in his eyes, she was still just human.

You do this task for me, and I will reward you with your life back.

"It was Morello!" The confession came out like a blubbering hot mess of sticky words. She prayed whatever made enough sense stuck to the wall of a man glaring at her. "I didn't have a choice!"

"No choice but to steal from me?" he rasped darkly.

"It-no, I mean, yes, but-" She licked her lips. This was already going poorly. She didn't like the way this woman was silently watching her fumble; the way his heated visage licked at the burns on her skin. Russel straightened her spine and forced herself to look him dead in the eye. "You said we would talk when you got back."

A cruel bark of laughter came from the side; it almost made her crumble.

The merc's chest heaved with an onslaught of some nasty words, (assumed by the downright malicious look on his face), but Evelyn turned her head to speak wordlessly with him. All at once he paused, and just cracked his hand into a fist instead.

"Why'd he want the Pip-Boy?" Lydia spoke up from her spot. "What the fuck could he gain from it?"

"He wanted the ledger." Russel sniffed loudly. "But since you were gone, I had to bring something back to get him off my ass."

Cross blew out a snort. "Should've shot that slimy bastard," he muttered under his breath.

"I didn't know what was on it. None of it made sense to me, or him."

"Where is it now?" he snarled.

"I don't know," she confessed. "A couple of ghouls came by his place. They killed everyone and took it."

"Who?"

"I don't know their names. I thought I was dead…I woke up in some shithole ditch a few days later, looking like this." She shrugged her shoulders, her handcuffs tinkling. "I went by the base…saw what happened…and came here. I didn't know where else to go."

Cross pointed his bony fingertip at her face. "Next time you decide to lie to me, I'll put a bullet in ya. It won't kill you, but it'll hurt like hell. I've been a ghoul for two hundred years, ya don't think I know how long it takes to go from being human to lookin' like you've been ghoulin' for almost a decade?" Russel felt the leftover color drain from her face as he waved her off. "Get her out."

There was the shuffling of feet as Russel was escorted back to her cell, her eyes never leaving Evelyn until she disappeared from the room.

"You're not going to at least cut off some fingers first?" Lydia remarked sarcastically. "Someone's getting soft."

"She wouldn't have told me anyway," he grumbled as he leaned back in his chair with a creak. "There was a reason I hired her in the first place."

"Oh I'm sure," Evelyn teased with a wink.

He pinched her side. "She ain't stupid…she would've skipped town if she heard the word we were lookin' for her."

"You think she's here for something else?" Lydia asked.

Cross just stared at his wife for a moment before he kissed her temple. "We'll question her later. Give her some time to think it over."

"She won't be going anywhere, Boss," Can remarked after he stepped back inside.

"Unless it's a grave," he muttered, and he breathed an ow as he was elbowed in the ribs.

"So, what now?" Lydia folded her arms over the topside of a filing cabinet and placed all her weight into leaning against it.

Cross looked down at the face blinking wide eyes back at him. "I ain't goin' to lie…I don't know. I started this shitshow of a business with one goal in mind. It wasn't meant to be anythin' more than it was."

Can shifted uneasily on his feet. "So…are we fired? No more Black Cazadors?"

Lydia felt a sting of betrayal in her chest, but she knew better.

"That's right." Cross nodded, and he absentmindedly stroked his fingers through a few golden locks. "I won't be cuttin' contracts. We ain't takin' jobs. The base is gone…if you want to stay here, I won't ask you to leave. But I ain't your boss anymore. You're on your own, now."

"Are you still going after them?" All eyes turned on Lydia, and she darted her tongue across her chapped lips. "You are, aren't you? It's why you haven't left."

"I'm not goin' to drag you further down that hole," he growled. "You're a grown woman now. Ya don't need me to hold your hand anymore."

"I'm not asking you to," she snapped, moving from her spot as she stepped forward. "I've come all this way with you, so why can't I-"

"Cause I don't want you to lose your life over it," he interrupted firmly.

She narrowed her eyes. "…you finally got a lead, didn't you?" Her gaze landed on the woman cradled in his lap.

"I want in too," Can piped up, and he nervously fidgeted in place after the merc quickly snapped his glare over. "What else am I good for, Boss?"

Cross exhaled his anger from his chest and held up a hand. "Look, this ain't up for fuckin' discussion, so-"

Evelyn squirmed from his lap; her expression queasy. "Ugh-"

The ghoul quickly retrieved an empty bin for her to hack into, nothing but stomach acid dribbling from her lips.

"God, what the hell is wrong with me?" she moaned, and she began to dry heave when the smell of hot sick wafted to her nose.

Charon snorted loudly, reminding everyone he was in the room. "If you are done arguing, I will have Stock give her an examination now."

Cross looked over at Evelyn's head halfway down her sick bin. "You good baby?"

"Don't talk to me," she groaned from inside the container.

A light blinded her right eye, then her left.

The thermometer was removed from underneath her tongue; the Geiger counter was set to the side.

"No fever, aches, chills…" the physician mumbled to himself as he typed away on a terminal set in the far corner of his exam room. "Just chuckin' bait into a bucket, huh?"

"What?" Evelyn hideously grumbled from inside her bin.

The doctor removed his glove and spun in his chair to the quiet ghoul just standing in the corner. "A good day's rest and plenty of fluids. It should be gone by tomorrow."

Charon gave a dip of his head.

Doc Stock turned to finish his diagnostics on his personal computer. "And I want her to be confined to her own quarters…just until I have examined Cross myself."

"What?" Cross rasped as he entered the room.

"Doctor's orders. I will hear nothing else on the matter." The old man waved his hand. Dismissed.

"Very well." Charon gently took the bucket from Evelyn's hands as he helped her down from the gurney and out of the room.

"Wait-hold on-" Cross was caught by the shoulder and shoved backward. "You ain't serious."

"I think you will manage to survive," Charon rasped curtly.

Cross closed the door when they continued without him. "What is it? What does she need?"

"What she needs, is to get some rest." Stock sighed and adjusted the rim of his spectacles as he looked at him. "I would also like to ask her some questions, and run some scans."

"Is she alright?" the merc pressed.

"She will be fine. I want you tested as well." Doc waved off the raised brow muscle. "You cannot expect me to sit by when you return as you are."

Cross smothered his hand to his face; it was Underworld all over again.

"I am just being cautious. As lovely as a couple you are, you may have been incidentally succumbing her to a slow leak of radiation without knowing."

Cross didn't voice his argument. He wasn't sure he was ready to tell the others of her specialties just yet.

"I've checked her myself. She's been fine," he grumbled instead.

Doc Stock shook his head. "Not until I am sure you don't emit any radiation."

The merc left, defeated and sour at the prospect of sleeping in a cold bed. He passed the ferryman leaned against her closed door, his index finger tapping at his bicep.

"Goin' to stand guard all night?" Cross half-joked.

"Yes," Charon replied stoically.

Bastard. Cross just waved a hand and snorted, feigning a nonchalant attitude until he sat down on his crumpled sheets and sadly sighed. He dug around his jacket pocket until his fingers met with the hard exterior of Darcy's synth component. After years of nothing but a cold trail, everything was seemingly being laid at his feet.

There was no turning back now.

A rap at his door made him spring from the bed and fling it open. He was only met with Charon's peeved expression.

"What is it?" Cross poked his head out to look down the empty hallway.

The bigger ghoul held out a small, folded piece of paper for him to take. The merc smothered his grin as he rubbed at his mouth and read the tiny note.

This is somehow all of your fault.

His smirk immediately turned into a scowl, and he called down the hallway as the ferryman went to return to his post. "That's it?"

Charon rolled his eyes and made a single motion with his finger. Flip it over.

Cross complied.

But I still love you…here…in case you get, 'lonely'.

Underneath the scripture was a simple drawing of a pair of tits.

Before the words I feel much better could be voiced, her head automatically went to the sink and filled it with the half-digested remnants of the lunch Charon had whipped up for her.

Lydia pushed her own plate across the counter, her appetite misplaced. She turned her head and cupped one hand around her mouth. "Canker!"

A Mister Handy whirred into the common area, an assortment of rags and abraxo cleaner in one mechanical claw while it toted a bucket of water in another. It went about its cleaning duties in silence.

"You had that the whole time?" Evelyn gasped in disbelief as she wiped her hand across her mouth. She stepped to the side as it began to clean her mess, and she hastily looked away before the slimy sight could tempt her for a second round.

Charon placed a hand on her waist. "You should be back in bed."

"I think I'm okay," she said unconvincingly as she placed a hand on her stomach. "I feel better once it's gone. I swear it was that drink he gave me yesterday."

"I do not think so." Charon nudged her out the door and straight to the small medical clinic just in time for them to catch sight of the doctor taking a sample of spinal fluid from the merc's neck.

Cross rubbed at the withdrawal site, his tone less than pleased. "Ya really needed that?"

"Get me that last sample." Stock turned to his newest patient standing quietly in the doorway. "Any better?"

"No," Charon answered before she could. She looked up at him, peeved.

"Alright. Go ahead and take a seat. You're not afraid of needles, are you?" Her paling skin made him chuckle. He snapped his fingers at the merc and motioned for him to leave. "Sample."

The merc stared at her for a moment too long, and the doctor felt his patience dwindle.

"No. You have over two hundred years of imagination- use it."

Charon grunted in amusement as Cross slinked outside with the empty vial in his hand. He returned only ten minutes later, a shameful slump in his shoulders.

Stock gently tilted a few glass tubes of blood back and forth between his fingers, a grey eyebrow raised over the rim of his spectacles at the empty vial. "Is there an issue?"

Evelyn looked between the two, sipping on her sugary nuka-cola and quietly chewing her snack of frosted cake she had been gifted.

"Five minutes. It's all I need," the merc announced.

"No."

Cross growled, clearly exasperated at the conversation focusing on his inability to perform solo. Was never an issue before…

"She's my damn wife-"

"She is my patient."

"I don't even need to touch her."

Evelyn felt her face flame the color of a blood-red sun.

"If that is the case, then I do not see why you cannot-"

"It's fine! It's fine!" Evelyn hopped down from her spot and wiped the crumbs down the length of her pants. "I feel okay."

Cross whisked her by the hand from the room.

"Not a single-!" Stock began, but they were gone from earshot. He adjusted his glasses and began to carefully organize his newest samples. "Why do I even bother around here?"

When they returned after the conclusion of five minutes, the merc handed over his glowing secretion while she took back ownership of her seat to finish her examination. He winked at her before Charon slammed the door in his face.

Doc Stock assessed her. "Your blouse is misbuttoned."

She squeaked in embarrassment as he handed her a jar for the last item to collect.

"If you don't have to go now, then just bring it back when you can." He finally wheeled around to face the more prominent guest in the room, his eyes making a scrupulous assessment of their most dangerous asset. "You appear well enough. Anything to write home about?"

Charon snorted. "No."

"At least you speak now." He turned his back to them both and began to tidy a small area.

Evelyn was ushered back towards the stairs with a firm hand pressed at her back. She scowled and removed him. "You're seriously not going to keep me in that room forever, are you?"

Charon lifted a single brow muscle at her. "Would you prefer a cell?"

"Ha." She stuck her tongue out. "Rude." She grabbed his hand and slung his arm around her shoulders, leaning into his side with a flop of her head against him. The ghoul was much nicer to cuddle with when his bulky armor was removed. She inhaled the scent of his shirt- gunpowder and salt. "…when can I see her memories?"

Evelyn had not forgotten the bit of information Cross had divulged after taking his synth's head. It was the first thing to come to mind after learning Darcy was dead…he hadn't been much too pleased when she had recommended it, but he wasn't going to argue with her anymore. They had been fighting that battle since they had first met back at that shithole bar in the swamplands, and he was tired of it.

"When you are feeling better," Charon simply replied. He opened her door just as the merc came to their side.

"I want you and Lydia to double-check the security system. She's got that assaultron in her workshop that I want up and runnin', and I want random patrol protocols put in place, in and outside the buildin'."

Charon felt Evelyn move out from under his arm as she went into her room. "Do you believe those responsible for Kittery may make a move?" he rasped.

"I don't know, but if they're goin' to fuckin' try, I want to be prepared."

"Shall I inspect the evacuation tunnel?"

"Yeah- it's been awhile since anyone went down there. Go ahead and fire up the turrets and check the stores. Place probably has a shit ton of ferals crawlin' 'round." Both men remained in spot, and Cross irritably sighed as he made to continue on his path. "Goddamn, you act like I was just givin' ya a reason."

"It's okay Charon." Evelyn nudged his boot with her own. "I can fend for myself."

"I doubt that," the ghoul rasped matter-of-factly, but he left all the same.

The minutes stretched with no return of her loyal guardian, and Cross reappeared with his hands full of flowers, a box of snack cakes, and a dark wine bottle.

"How long do you think we have?" she mused as he stepped inside.

His shirt was already on the floor, and she laughed as he pulled her to the bed. "Not damn long enough."

The door was locked.

Charon pounded a fist on it. It opened to Evelyn rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Yeah?" she said drowsily.

The ghoul tried to peer inside the darkness of her room, but she kept the door firmly set in place at just a crack.

"Is he in there?"

"What is it?" she mumbled with a hint of annoyance. "I was sleeping, jeez."

"You are wearing his shirt."

She sighed. "I always wear his stuff, so?"

The ghoul lifted the end strands of some of her hair. "…you missed a spot."

Evelyn thrust her head back, nervously tucking the dried 'evidence' back behind herself. "What, Charon?"

"Stock wishes to speak with you. Get dressed." Charon thrust the door wide open, the splash of light from the hallway illuminating the merc's back and bare ass on the bed. "Get out."

Cross just grumbled something and suppressed the pillow over his head.

Evelyn rolled up her pants, thrust on her boots, stuffed the remainder of a cake in her mouth, and smacked the merc's butt before she left the room.

"Is he going to tell me that certain soft beverages are the wasteland's most notorious culprit for upset stomachs?" she scoffed as they made their way to the clinic.

Charon was left to wait outside a closed door for what was assumed patient privacy, and when it finally reopened, he was met with her pale face and abnormally quiet self. She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked back at the face of the physician. He gave her a nod, and she closed his door.

"Are you alright?" Charon rasped.

"I'm fine," she said hurriedly. "It's nothing serious. I'm actually tired and want to go back to bed."

"Evelyn." Charon halted her before she could flee from his scrutinizing glare. "Do not keep secrets from me."

"It's nothing," she whispered, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I know you better than that. What are you hiding?" He tucked one hand underneath her chin and raised her face to meet his. "If you do not tell me, I will force Stock to. You are important to me. I wish to know that you are well."

She chewed her lower lip for a moment, before bringing her hands up to nestle inside his beltline distractedly. The words jumbled from her mouth, and he slowly lowered his hand back to his side.

"You cannot tell Cross, please Charon," she begged, her fingers holding onto him with an absurd amount of strength.

"He…" Charon shook his head. The world was spinning. "He needs to know."

"I'll tell him," she promised. "Just…not right now. He's got too much to think about-"

"Do you honestly believe any of that matters compared to this?" Charon spat. The ghoul cooled himself with a deep breath. Being angry would only escalate the situation, something she clearly didn't need. "If you do not tell him, I will."

"No!" Evelyn nearly cried. "Charon, please promise me you won't say anything. You know how he gets…until I know he's ready, I want to wait."

"Evelyn, he would never be ready for something like that!" he hissed lowly. When her lower lip trembled and her eyes widened, he gnashed his teeth and looked away. "…how long?" he asked thickly.

She pressed herself against him and closed her eyes. "…a month, maybe more."

"Is there anything I can do?" His body was shaking, and he felt her arms squeeze tightly to reassure him.

"It's okay, big guy…I just want to go back to bed."

The ghoul didn't protest when she disappeared back behind her door with the other ghoul still slumbering away in her sheets. Charon departed with a sad look on his face, and she was left unaware that he had gone down to his workshop and destroyed the place in a tempest of fear and anger.

She drew herself flush against the merc's broad back until he rolled over and squished her close.

"You okay?" Cross muttered groggily. "Nothin' serious?"

"It'll be fine." She forced her voice to remain neutral, and she hastily wiped at a fresh tear that escaped her eye. "I told you it was your fault," she half-heartedly joked.

He yawned into her hair like a yao guai. "I'll make it up to ya."

She traced her fingers along the lines of muscle in his chest, and softly smiled. "…you already did."