Rather than follow the Lone Wanderer's story (which everyone knows, at length) I figured I'd try something different and make up a quest that could have been, involving poor old Charon's past. It was inspired by the fact that you can equip your stalwart ghoul manservant with power armour without training.

Charon

The kid snored - although she outright denied this when I brought it up later. It wasn't the deep, phlegmy rattle of destroyed vocal chords which I was accustomed to while watching out for Ahzrukhal (the guy was paranoid enough about assassins to make me stay in his room every so often - yeah, believe me, I don't like to think about it, either), but instead it was a curious, high pitched sigh. The rhythmic sound was almost hypnotic, and eventually I drifted off into a sort of trance.

It was always the same. Always. His fucking smug face. I swear, as long as I live, I'll never forget his face. The others were there, too, but never in focus. Just him, standing alone, taunting. The worst thing wasn't that I couldn't fight back, but that I didn't even feel the compulsion to. I felt nothing. That was the whole point. I saw him and all I could do was obey. He was Father, he was Mother, he was God. And he loved it, the sick fuck. The things I did - the things we all did. He turned us into monsters - and then I goddamn well literally turned into one. Karma. You've gotta love it.

She turned over in her sleep and it altered her breathing. It was enough to break my concentration and pull me out of my daydream. I was grateful for it - too many times I'd let myself return to that place, that time, and torment myself unnecessarily. I had to focus on something else, my old fail-safe. Jacks. Just a fucking kid's game, but it's good for stopping your mind from wandering when you don't want it to. I reached into one of my pockets, and started to play. I wouldn't stop until my thoughts had stopped betraying me.

Lone Wanderer

When I woke, I couldn't tell how long I'd been out, but I felt like I'd slept for days. As the haze of slumber cleared from my eyes, I could make out Charon's solitary silhouette still, as far as I could tell, in the exact position that I left him when I drifted off. It was eerie, like he was some sort of lifeless statue. On my knees, I crawled slowly towards him and reached out a hand to touch his shoulder; I half expected the cold brush of stone against my skin. Not so. Recoiling, he spun around in an instant and scared me shitless.

"Christ, Charon! You made me jump."

"What? You were the one who crept up on me. Not the smartest idea when I've got a shotgun in my hands. You're just lucky I've got the reflexes of a cat whacked out on Mentats."

I looked at him, eyebrow raised. Charon had deadpan down to an art; I could never tell if he was making a joke or whether really meant what he said. I think I caught the corners of his mouth twitch, but it might have just been a trick of the light. I smiled at him, nonetheless, but if anything I think it just made him uncomfortable - he shuffled away from me and got to his feet in a movement that could almost be described as graceful.

"Let's get moving. You've been lazing around long enough."

My strategy was simple - get to Three Dog, find out the information he had about Dad, and then head out towards what would no doubt be our touching reunion. But life seldom goes to plan - if I'd learned anything from the last few months, it was this unalterable truth - and fate had different ideas about what my immediate future held in store.

*

At the GNR Plaza, we passed a dead Brotherhood Paladin. Despite what Charon had told me about the Brotherhood's questionable opinion of ghouls, I still felt obliged to kneel down beside the poor sod and say a few words. Fact was, the guy died protecting the weak - and that deserved a moment's deference. While I had my eyes closed tightly, mid-prayer, I felt the corpse beneath me begin to move. My eyes flicked open, ready to witness this miracle first hand, and I instead was confronted with Charon trying to extricate the dead body from its power armour. I cried out in astounded outrage and shoved Charon away.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Charon's expression mimicked my own - he clearly didn't know why I was protesting. I sometimes wonder, had it not been for the contract I held, whether Charon might have just knocked me clean out.

"You've seen one corpse, you've seen 'em all! We may as well loot the asshole - this guy's no better than anyone else. In fact, scratch that, he is better; this armour will fetch a tidy sum, I'll bet."

I was disgusted, mostly at myself because I found his logic sound. What sort of person had I become to think what he said was justifiable? Sure, I'd searched raiders and slavers and even the odd dead Wastelander when I had to. But this guy had died fighting the Good Fight. He deserved better. There had to be a line somewhere, but I wasn't sure where it was anymore.

There was that annoying, matter-of-fact little voice at the back of my head that told me the Paladin was dead and that my need was greater than his. That he was just one more stiff claimed by the Capital Wasteland, and if I didn't take his stuff, someone else would. In short, that Charon was absolutely right. It was beyond irritating.

"Fuck you, Charon. Fuck this whole place. It turns people into barbarians."

I scraped my hands though my hair and turned my back on Charon and the corpse. Out of sight, out of mind. I knew it was childish, but I couldn't help but take my frustration at myself out on him. He was the nearest animate object at the time. I didn't expect an intelligent response - just for him to stand there in silence, or even worse, to remind me that, as his employer, if I commanded him to leave the body he would obey. But he did speak up, and most alarmingly, he seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.

"Kid, don't be so hard on yourself. The natural instinct to survive is strong. Best way to honour his death is by fighting to stay alive. A body's just a body, anyway; soul's what's important."

I turned, amazed, to face the philosopher. Where had all this deep profundity been hiding? There I was ready to write the guy off as an all-killing, all-dancing automaton, and he drops that bomb on me. I hadn't even stopped to think Charon might have an opinion on an afterlife, on the soul. I was honestly lost for words - something that I wasn't afflicted with very often. Luckily, Charon kick started the conversation again.

"Now, do you want me to take the fucking armour or not?"

And there he was again, the Charon I thought I knew. I couldn't help but laugh - a short, humourless exhale that I didn't recognise.

"Hell, I don't know. Yeah, it might be worth a bit in trade, but who knows when we'll come across the next caravan and it'll just weigh us down. Neither of us know how to use it, anyway."

"Speak for yourself, kid."

I could tell from his expression, the second he had said it, he wished he hadn't.

Charon

Shit. Shit! I knew I'd dropped the ball this time. That girl missed nothing, and she was relentless in her pursuit of business that was none of hers. Now I'd let something monumental like that slip, she'd never let it lie.

"How do you know how to use power armour, Charon? I thought you had to undergo special Brotherhood training before you'd be able to use it."

And there it was, right on cue. I figured I'd just have to throw her off the scent - feed her some bullshit and hope for the best.

"Been around a long time. You pick up knowledge like that in the Wastes. No big deal."

I shrugged nonchalantly and ditched the helmet I was holding. It was pretty fucking weak. If that were really the case, you'd see a lot more raiders waltzing around powered up to their eyeballs. I was just hoping she was still wet enough behind the ears to bite.

"No. No way. I don't buy that for a second. Tell me what the deal is, Charon."

Well, I was goddamn well cornered, then. I didn't have a lot of choice other than to tell her the truth. But I just knew if she found out, she wouldn't be able to let it lie. She'd have to go on a shitting crusade to bring justice to the wronged. More than that, though - I just didn't want to talk about it. Past was the past, and there was no point in dredging it all up again. I grunted, and replied reluctantly,

"If that is what you command, then I'll-"

"Ah, shit! I don't want to feel like I've forced you to do anything. Can't you just give the whole obedience thing a break for five minutes? I don't like it - it makes me feel uncomfortable."

Good. She was distracting herself from the issue. I just had to keep her on this train of thought, and I'd hopefully be able to keep her out of my life before I became this - somewhere I didn't want her anywhere near. Fucking do-gooder wouldn't be able to resist meddling with the skeletons in my closet.

"You bought my contract. You knew the terms."

"Yes, but I didn't think- I mean, when Ahzrukhal said- I thought it was just a figure of speech. Exaggeration. Not being free to make your own decisions, think for yourself - that's - it's just awful."

The kid walked up a few of the steps towards the R building and sat down on a wall. She slumped over on her elbows and raked her hands through her hair again - I'd eventually come to associate this gesture with her being under stress. I wasn't used to this - to an employer who actually gave a shit about the fact I was lacking that pretty important feature of humanity, free will. But if anything, it just annoyed the crap out of me. I didn't know how to handle her or her fucking bleeding heart. Some things were just the way they were. There was no reason, and there was no need to try and fix it. Not that anyone could, anyway - I'd exhausted all avenues a long time ago. Ahzrukhal had just asked the bare minimum about my past, and that was fine by me.

Still, I figured if I didn't say something she might just explode - or even worse, start to cry. Strange and dangerous territory for me; if that happened, I'd be fucked. I was fresh out of teddy bears and ice cream. I did my best to offer some words of comfort.

"Kid, I'm not gonna lie to you - it's shit. I'm programmed to do anything you ask me to. But what's the point of getting upset about something you can't change? Life's like that sometimes. I'm also stuck with a face like a Brahmin's ass, but you don't see me whining about it."

Her face was still lowered, but I heard her laugh. It was quiet but definitely there. Now, I just wanted to get out of here and as far away from this crock of shit touchy-feely moment as I could. Babysitting was harder work than I had expected. But just when I was about to say something to this end, she spoke up again. Kid just couldn't leave it alone!

"You can't be serious. Not anything I ask you. I mean, what if I told you to don a dress and put on a burlesque show for the Brotherhood. You wouldn't do it… would you?"

"I would do as I was instructed to do."

"What if I asked you to give me a foot rub?"

"I would do as I was instructed to do."

"… Shoot yourself in the head?"

"Is there any point to this, kid? I mean, are you actually going to ask me to shoot myself or are you just being an asshole?"

She laughed again, although, personally, I couldn't see the joke. I was honestly getting tired of this, and damn near ready just to let her know whatever she wanted to. At least that way I'd get some peace. I tried again to get us moving.

"Aren't we supposed to be meeting up with Three Dog? You'll never find Daddy if we don't, remember?"

Lone Wanderer

So he had been listening to me back in the tunnels! Well, that was a little bit of good news, anyway. But he knew everything about me - apart from my name, of course, which out of principal now, I wouldn't give until he asked - and I didn't know a thing about him. I wasn't going to rise to his bait; I know that's what he wanted, to distract me from the information I was so tantalisingly close to. Charon was a tricky customer, but he couldn't outsmart me. I was seconds away from getting the truth out of him, and I wasn't going to let him wriggle out of it this time.

"Charon. I don't like to do it, but: I order you to tell me what happened to you. What were you before you were…,"

"Before I was this ugly fucking monstrosity?"

"Well, I wouldn't have put it that way myself, but yes, alright. What happened to you?"

His face collapsed, as finally, he gave in. Charon took a seat next to me on the wall - well, I say next to me, but in reality, he was as far away as he could sit without falling off. I'd noticed Charon didn't like being close to me - or perhaps, it was me that he didn't like being close to him. He didn't even like to catch my gaze for long periods of time. I suppose it was difficult to always look into people's eyes and see ill-concealed revulsion.

"Okay, kid. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin."