All heads turned around to Evelyn pattering inside the room. She was carrying a plate with some sort of bread piled atop of it, completely fixated on the desecrated corpse in the corner. Can and Charon both had their forearms slathered in gore and guts as they sloughed the innards into buckets.

She shot the glowing ghoul a nasty glare. "That is way too far."

"Wasn't me." Cross jut a thumb at the ferryman, who was tossing fingers (and a foot) into a metal pail.

"Charon!"

"What?" the red ghoul scowled. "I have seen you dismember people. This should not bother you."

"Cause they were raiders and rapists and overall bad people!" She lamely waved her free hand at the scene. "He was just…some guy."

"Some guy who had information relatin' to Sinjin," Cross interjected. He took a seat in his chair, wiping the blood from his hands on a rag. "The cunt was dead either way."

"Oh?" Evelyn snipped. "And did he tell you where he is?" When the ghoul just stewed a snarl at her, she barked out a cruel laugh. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Is there a good fuckin' reason you're down here?" he snapped. A thumb was pelted at the backside of his head.

"Hey," Charon growled in warning.

Almost immediately, Cross wanted to shove his entire fucking boot in his mouth at the instant turnaround of emotion on her face. He beckoned her over as her chin began to quiver. "Fuck, I'm sorry, you know I don't mean that." He curled his arms around her and smacked an apology kiss to her temple as she took a seat on his lap, and he gave the dish she had brought a dreadful once over. "What'dya bring me?"

She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "My secret recipe." She set it down on the desk with a clank. It appeared to be nothing more than dinner rolls…with something oozing from the inside. "Been working on them for months."

Christ Almighty, he thought with a hidden grimace. Now he had to try it, lest he make her cry some more.

The mister handy designated 'Clanker' came hovering into the room with a box of abraxo and some hot water. Charon washed the blood from his hands and arms with a sudsy lather before allowing the robot to finish cleaning their mess with Can.

He swiped his palms down his shirt to dry them, turning around to eye her newest disaster. "Are they safe?"

"That is so rude!" Evelyn pouted. "I swear they're actually good this time!"

"Like that mirelurk stew that gave us food poisoning?" Can said over his shoulder with a grin.

"Fuck off. Either try-try them or d-don't!" she pitifully sniveled with a tremor to her voice.

Charon picked one up, studied it intensely for a few seconds, and then took a bite. He thoughtfully chewed it and then stared at it. "I do not understand."

"Ya need to hit the head?" Cross rasped, earning an elbow strike to the ribs.

"They are…good." The ferryman took another bite, and then reached for a second one.

"Bullshit." Cross winced as he took another blow. "Ow, baby."

"I told you!" she huffed.

The merc hesitantly took one, and then proceeded to take Charon's word as he tasted her 'secret recipe'.

"Holy shit," he remarked after he swallowed. "They are good. Fuck you get these from?"

"I made them!"

"There ain't no way."

"I've been working so hard on them! I've been saving those jars of tarberry jam and brahmin butter forever now just for these!"

He could taste the sweet fruit on his tongue as he nearly inhaled the thing. They were fluffy, soft, and had a nice crunch from the browned tops. It brought a vivid memory of sitting around the table during Thanksgiving, the only time his first wife would ever make her famous sweet potato rolls. These weren't nearly as good…but they were definitely appreciated.

"You seem to like them," she snipped as he licked the jam from his thumb. She rose from his lap and snagged one to shove in Can's mouth before he left. "Don't you dare spit this one out!"

Charon took a seat and watched her patter around the room as she began to organize some misplaced paperwork. Cross still refused to allow anyone else to sort through his mess other than her, and he figured it more as an excuse to keep her close by while he worked.

"Hey, do you know what, uh?" The merc not so very discreetly unfurled a note to the side, his voice clipped and hurried as he read it. "Red Robin stuck in a cage, puts all of heaven in a rage." He just as quickly crumpled it back into a ball. "Or some shit like that."

Evelyn quirked an eyebrow and tucked a strand of curly golden brown hair behind one ear. "While that was the most abysmal rendition of that line, it's William Blake. It's from his poem Auguries of Innocence. Where did you get that?"

"Well, I-" He instinctively sunk back in his seat as her face darkened with the most murderous glower he had ever seen.

"Did someone write you a note, quote you poetry, and you decided to fucking keep it?"

"Holy shit no-!" He looked over to his fellow ghoul for some help- Charon had abandoned him in his time of need by just slowly eating another roll and trying to appear invisible.

"I write you notes. Me. I'll fucking rip her skull from her shoulders with my bare hands. That ghoul will look like fucking child's play when I'm done with her."

He began to sweat- the air was so stifling he felt like he couldn't breathe. He had never experienced true fear, the kind that made a man's knees shake and throat grow dry until that very moment. "It'sfromAmari-JesusChrist-it'sfromDarcy'smemory!"

"Oh." Her entire eldritch form simply melted away, allowing light to illuminate the room once more with a pleasant vibe. She casually crossed her arms and had a cute thinking face as she tapped her fingertip to her nose. "It was her favorite poem- it's the only reason I recognized it. It's a very long piece, but she knew the whole thing by heart. When was this?"

The merc was frozen in his seat; he still had not recovered from the ghastly chills slushing his blood. He was internally grateful he had burned Russel's note when he had; if he had forgotten about its existence and she had incidentally found it, he couldn't have imagined the consequences.

"Helloooo, are the lights on with nobody home?"

She was waving a hand in front of his face, and he had to mentally will himself to not flinch. It was so, so easy to think of her as his beautiful wife, all plump and waddling around…but she was molded from the same marble as those monsters back in Vault 91 had been…she was just hell of a lot cuter. She plopped in his lap, rubbed a hand over her belly, and smiled a little cute fucking smile. Like she wasn't somehow capable of tearing him to shreds.

"Was there anything else?" she asked innocently.

Cross rubbed at his head. "Nope…just that…that's all we got."

"Hmm." She stood back up and began to totter out of the room. "I honestly don't remember the whole thing…let me see if that book I have upstairs might have some of his works inside…" She was still muttering to herself as she wandered down the hall, her voice beginning to grow faint.

Cross glowered at the ghoul who was taking another roll from the plate. "She could've fuckin' killed me!"

Charon snorted past a mouthful of fluffy, jam-filled wonder. "Annihilated is a better term."

Cross scowled at the nearly empty plate. "Goddamn, how many of those things ya goin' to eat?"

"I have suffered enough of her cooking," Charon stated seriously, and he reached for the rest of the baked goods for himself. "I deserve this."

Cross grumbled Hungarian as he rubbed at his head and looked at the stains still wet on the walls. He was left alone to his thoughts as everyone (and everything) departed back to their routines; left to take that cold dip in those unknown waters when it came to his plans for Sinjin.

"Whoa, never thought we'd go back to our old ways," Lydia snarked as she stepped inside. She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. "Goodneighbor's all fired up with the word of what you did…rumor's going around that you're feral."

The merc gave her a withering look, but ultimately ignored the comment. "We got a lead. We'll be headin' out soon." He narrowed his eyes as she began to chew her thumbnail- her nervous habit of wanting to suggest something hasty. "What is it?"

"Let me go," Lydia suggested, and she stood her ground as his hard stare tried to flay her skin from her bones. "You said it yourself, you don't need to hold my hand anymore. I'm more than capable of tracking the bastard and getting the job done, way better than those other useless assholes could be."

"No."

"It would be the best way!" she argued. "You wouldn't have to leave; I could dig out some real dirt-"

"Lydia, I ain't goin' to say it again," Cross growled. "I don't want you within a foot of this shit. Keep your nose clean, and keep an eye on Evelyn while we're gone."

"I've done missions more fucking dangerous than this!"

"You've done what I thought you could handle," Cross snarled as he rose from his seat. "And I was right, cause you're still standin' here. This ain't like before. You'll stay here, you'll do your job, and I won't hear another word about it. Am I fuckin' clear?"

She scoffed. "I'm not some fuckin' kid-"

"No, you're my kid," he said abruptly, and it snapped her mouth shut. The merc sighed, placing his hands on his hips, his expression growing soft. "You really think I dragged you halfway and back 'round the wasteland if I didn't care? I know I'm an asshole, but it brought you up tougher than most…but this ain't your fight, alright?"

"But." She wiped her nose, an old habit. The merc's words had completely taken her off guard. "At least let me come with-"

"I need someone here in case somethin' goes wrong," he rasped seriously. "You and Can are all I got left, and I don't trust leavin' her with someone else. I know you'll take good care of her, and if somethin' does happen, that you'll split hairs to come find me." He directed a hand down at the map. "I need that hell of a lot more than I need this. Charon and I are goin' to find and gut this prick, and you're goin' to keep Evelyn safe. Capeesh?"

She looked off to the side. "…capeesh."

The ferryman was debating with all the dignity of his nature whether or not to lick the jam clean from the plate when he stepped inside the common kitchen area. The tip of his tongue had just barely made way past his lips when he looked over to Evelyn braced over the sink. He was about to drop the dish from his hand when he noticed her shuddering.

He instantly turned her around at the shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Her face was shiny and flushed, her eyes swollen and red. "Please don't go."

He set the plate to the side and softly exhaled through his nostrils. "You know it is necessary."

"To whom?! I don't care what he did to me anymore! I don't! We should all just leave Boston, let's just go-"

"It is not that easy," Charon nearly growled. He couldn't tell her what they had learned in Goodneighbor- she didn't need the extra stress. "We will leave when it is safe."

"And who the fuck decides that?!" The plate was nabbed and thrown across the room, shattering it into a thousand pieces. "I'm not even allowed to go outside because it isn't safe! When is this finally over?! When you find him? When he finds you?"

Charon went to place a hand on her comfortingly, but she sharply pelted it away. He curled it into a fist and ground his jaw to keep himself from losing his own temper. "I will do what should have been done a long time ago."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, leaning against the counter with a sullen disposition. "You weren't gone long enough and now you can't wait to be back out the door?" she ground out bitterly.

Charon stared at her. "You are mad at me."

She ignored the obvious elephant in the room and wiped a stray tear from her eye. "You didn't even say goodbye."

"You would not have let me go."

"Yeah, only seems to be a real issue when I'm the one who leaves."

"He would not have raped you if you hadn't." The words left his mouth like a vicious attack. All at once, he granted her some space with a few steps back, his eyes drawn down to the floor. "You…you know I did not mean that. I am sorry."

"Keep your apology," she snapped as she stalked past. "…it doesn't make it any less true."

"Hey," he rasped curtly as he grabbed her hand before she could leave. With a gentle pull, he spun her around, forcing their eyes to meet as he tilted her chin upwards. "It was not your fault."

"Don't bullshit me to make me feel better." Her lower lip quivered, but he refused to let her drop her head in shame.

"And I am not," he countered. He let go of her hand to curl some loose hairs behind her ear. "He is manipulative. It is what makes him dangerous."

She pushed his hand aside. "Bet the Commonwealth didn't have to fuck him like some cheap whore to figure that out," she mumbled dourly.

Charon mustered the entirety of his disappointment at her words in the slight downward curl of his mouth.

She laced her fingers over his broad shoulders, feeling the coils of underlying muscle and all the indents of scars, burns, and bullet holes. It still made her slightly nervous, being so intimate with him, being afraid that one day he would say no and revert to how it was between them due to her choices.

He reached a hand across his chest to hold her wandering fingertips. "Talk to me."

She was only able to meet his eyes for a split second. They were so ever calculative, observing her every move and processing the possible outcomes. Charon was always thinking, always.

"I'm…afraid, sometimes," she said quietly. "That you're going to think this was a mistake, between us." She turned her head as his mouth drew in a stern line. "That you're going to see that this isn't what you really wanted, that I'm not what you wanted."

When she didn't meet his eyes, he loudly exhaled through his nostrils and brought her hand to his mouth. "How long have you been thinking like this?"

Her response was quicker than he anticipated. "Ever since you left."

The ghoul stayed quiet, thinking back to the former prostitute that had offered him a straight-forward ticket to her pussy, to the woman he had been playing homebody with as a last-ditch effort to avoid his real plight.

"I know I'm the last person to have a right to ask this," she said emotionally as she looked off to the side. "But…were you…looking, for something else?"

"I was," he said carefully after a few solid minutes of silence. "But not what you are thinking."

"Then what were you looking for? Why did you leave? Why didn't you at least tell me goodbye?"

"Come with me," he rasped with a lick of his lips. "...I wish to show you something."

He held her hand as he led her to his workshop. She watched him dig around in his pack and pull out a beautiful, deep-blue hardcover book with gilded pages.

"You know I am not good with words," he confessed after turning back to her. With hesitation, he held over the book for her to take. "I was going to give this to you. I thought you might have liked it, but…" Shame clouded his brow as she took it in her hands and opened it to his scrawled handwriting. "I had something I needed to tell you."

She silently read a few passages, and then met his sad eyes with her own. "Oh Charon, is this-?"

"It is everything I could not tell you before." He licked his lips, and brusquely wiped at his mouth as his voice grew thick. "I am sorry for not telling you many things."

She started to cry. Her hands shook as she wiped her eyes with her wrists. "I'm sorry I made you cross that stupid river."

His mouth twitched. "I forgive you."

She gasped and turned away from him. "You're supposed to say sorry in return for like being a total asshole or something!"

He did no such thing, but wrapped his arms around her and swallowed her with his sheer size as he tucked her close. He tilted her chin back and kissed her forehead as she continued to blubber.

"We are coming back," he said firmly.

An empty duffel bag took a plop on the bed beside the piles of neatly folded laundry, making Evelyn blink as Cross swiped at his clothes before she could put them away. He began to silently organize his wares until a loud sniffle drew his head up.

"Ya don't need to cry," he began. "Heyhey- we knew this was comin' for a long time," he rasped gently as he reached out for her. The entire scenario made him feel as though he were shipping overseas to some unknown land to fight for a cause, as though it was destined that he wouldn't be coming back. "It's just a minor lead, it could be nothin'."

"It's obviously something if you're going," she bit out angrily, her fingers fiddling with the sides of his shirt. "…how long?"

He kissed her forehead with a close of his eyes. "No longer than a few weeks, I promise you that."

"A few weeks?! But…but what if…"

"I'm comin' back. I'll be here," he said firmly. "Ya want Charon to stay here?"

"No, no…I'd rather he be with you."

A grunt. "Don't think this old man can handle it?"

"I don't care how good you think you are. I want you to be safe," she snapped as she pulled away. Her angered expression dipped into a frown as she tugged at his belt. "Are you leaving today?"

He rubbed at the back of his head for a moment before answering. "Was plannin' on it. Lydia and Can are goin' to stay here for you. Whatever outside shit they got goin' on will be on hold till we get back, alright? Ya won't be cooped up here with just Stock."

"But what about Darcy's-?"

"If there's any progress, you send Lydia to figure things out. We just don't got the time to wait."

After some minutes had passed, she finally nodded her head and hugged herself as she watched him resume his packing for the road ahead. A stack of photographs was retrieved from the bottom drawer of the nightstand, and she gasped as he placed them inside a snug pocket of his jacket.

"You said you threw those out!"

"What?" he groused. "Goin' to need somethin'."

"I don't want people to see those!"

"You really think I'd show these around?" he mused at her sincere discomfort. He pulled one out, grinning at the pornographic image it displayed of her mouth sucking his dick. The caps for that rare roll of unused film and working camera had been so worth it. "C'mon, ya really can't blame me."

"Pervert."

"You want me to leave you some?" He grinned mischievously as he waved it back and forth. It was then tucked back inside amongst the multitude of other naughty stills.

She rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. "Whatever. Take them. Have your fun." The remaining clothes began to be angrily shoved into drawers.

A twitch of something hard pressed against her back, and she glanced behind herself to his pants suddenly undone. "You didn't think I was goin' to leave without us havin' some fun first, did ya?" Cross slid a rough palm between her thighs, a flirtatious smirk on his face. "You in the mood for somethin'?"

She took his hand and brought it to her lips, wetting his middle and index fingertip with her tongue before sucking them whole straight down to the webbing. They came back out with a loud pop!

"Bring me some water, first?" she asked shyly.

The ghoul sprinted down the stairs, nearly sliding into the kitchen and then rounding by Charon's workshop.

"I wouldn't miss the next thirty minutes if I were you," he rasped thickly.

They both came back and stood over the bed.

She was dead asleep.

"…do we wake her?" Charon questioned quietly.

"Nah." Cross sidled another pillow around her back; the water bottle was placed within easy reach for when she would wake. He flicked off the light and closed the door to a crack, walking side by side with his companion back down to the lobby.

Charon halted at the bottom of the stairs, the air between them thick. "You wish to ask me something."

Cross rubbed at his head, clearly ashamed. "…did you find it?" He then looked back up the way they had come. "What she was talkin' 'bout, down in that vault."

"I did...It was not easy to find, but it was there."

The merc slowly slumped down to take a seat on the bottom step. Charon joined him, and neither spoke for a considerable amount of time.

Cross didn't meet his eyes as he looked off into something that was not there. "I sometimes wonder what would've happened…if we never got on that boat."

The ferryman cracked his knuckles. The same thought had sometimes plagued him…made him more restless than usual. "It would be different."

"Yeah…" Cross brusquely wiped at his face, the shine on his cheeks attesting to his tears. "It would have."

Charon awkwardly fidgeted in place. "Has Stock told you, how…?"

"He's run some tests…he honestly don't fuckin' know. We won't have an answer till the baby comes." The merc sniffed loudly and draped his forearms over his knees. "I honestly give a shit less. I'm just happy it happened."

"Do you think he was really a synth?"

Cross shrugged. "…I don't know."

They remained in mutual silence, their elbows touching and eyes on the floor as they were left to their thoughts. The glowing ghoul was the first to rise, and he shoved his hands in his pockets with a sigh.

"I'm goin' downstairs to get a drink…ya want one?"