The door to my room in the Weatherly Hotel slung open fiercely on its hinges with a violent squeal of protest, a scene which reminded me of the first day I recruited Charon. The tables were turned this time, however, as he stood in my doorway and recited a line to me which both caused my pulse to quicken and my eyes to widen.
I'd been in this room for nearly two weeks now, not bothering to do much more than read and re-read a few old books stowed away in my backpack. I was barely even eating. Charon had stuck around but kept his distance for the most part after I'd torn up his contract, and I couldn't say it didn't annoy me. Perhaps he really did think of me as more than just an employer, but I felt like he most likely still considered himself still under contract, even without a piece of paper to prove it.
Charon had followed me from the Citadel all the way to Rivet City after I parted ways with Mike, who had agreed to do whatever the Brotherhood told him to do in order to avenge our father's death in one way or another. He seemed to have gotten much more protective of me, but I was still mourning, and refused to go with him as he headed for Megaton to get his things ready for the trip the Brotherhood was sending him on. He'd offered for me to stay at his house in Megaton, but I just couldn't get that close to the vault without feeling like I needed to go back inside, back to the safety and order that living there offered.
"There's a kid in a vault suit in the Muddy Rudder." Charon announced, seeming to expect me to shoot out of my seat like a rocket.
I looked up at him after spending a few seconds staring at the floor with wide eyes. My heart wouldn't stop racing as I considered the possibility that it could be one of my friends. Despite my excitement, though, I was pissed. Who would leave the safety and comfort of the vault to follow in Mike's and my footsteps?
To my displeasure, I did exactly what Charon expected of me, though it was a delayed reaction. I stood up from my chair so quickly that it fell over. I pulled on a pair of jeans and, my feet bare, stormed out of the room with Charon behind me.
As I rushed down the staircase, the possibilities ran through my mind a hundred times, but only one person seemed to stand out. Butch had wanted to leave the vault with me before. While my bare feet were pattering on the cold metal of the stairs, I felt more and more angry with each step.
Sure enough, when I entered the Muddy Rudder and descended the stairs inside, there he was, sitting at the bar with a shot glass full of whiskey before him.
Butch DeLoria downed the fiery whiskey and lit up a cigarette, taking a deep drag from it.
My heart felt as if it were attempting to free itself from my ribcage with each beat as I furiously grabbed Butch by the collar of his jacket and shoved him against the nearest wall. My fist wound back and sprung like the hammer on a gun, knocking him in the mouth and busting his lip.
"Why would you leave?!" I screamed, holding my fist at the ready again as he recovered from the sudden attack.
"Catie?" He asked as he lowered my fist with his hands and tried to work my fingers loose from their grip on his collar.
I nodded, tightening my fingers, "Who else? Now answer me, what the hell are you doing out of the vault? I left you behind so that you could be safe, dammit, and now you're out!?"
"The vault is different now, Catie. It's crazy. There ain't a reason to stay in there." He left it at that.
My face softened from its murderous cast and my eyes began to sting as tears welled up in them. I let go of his collar and raised my other arm, wrapping both my arms around his neck as I pulled him closer. I hugged him tightly before pressing my lips against his once in a brief kiss. It tasted like blood, and I felt bad for hitting him.
"I've missed you," I fumbled out, before letting him go.
I turned around, noticing that Charon had a slight smile on his lips.
Before I could take a single step, Butch reached out and grabbed my wrist, "Come sit down with me and have a drink or two. I'm not saying I missed you or nothing, but it's good to see you again..." He wiped the blood from his busted lip with a sleeve.
A smile found its way onto my face for the first time in two weeks, but I still felt upset, the memory of my father's death worming its way into my head. Butch hadn't changed a bit, however, and that served to make me feel slightly better.
I sat down at the nearest table, and Butch and Charon followed suit.
"Charon, this is Butch DeLoria, my old friend." I smiled again as I gestured to the leather-clad greaser.
"Friend? We both know I'm more than that. Ain't no way you can back outta that one, especially now." Butch stuck a toothpick in his mouth and winked in my direction.
"You speak as if that wasn't the first kiss you could get out of me. Definitely wasn't the first punch, though." I raised an eyebrow and held up a fist, my lips curling up in a slight grin.
"Hey, I was only joking! Jeez!" Butch then produced a bottle of whiskey from his pocket. "Freshly bought. You want any?"
I nodded and held my hand out, ready to drown my sorrows in the amber liquid before me. Of course, Charon looked concerned, but he didn't say anything. I guess this meant I'd be hauling my own ass out of here if I got too drunk.
He handed over the whiskey and I took a slight sip, my lips barely touching the bottle.
"Oh come on, I know you can do better than that!" Butch took the bottle from me and guzzled down an enormous gulp, before handing the bottle back to me. "Whatever happened to that time we stole beers from the cafeteria?"
"Well, I, erm..." I could feel the sweat start to bead on my forehead as my face flushed red, "That was beer and this is whiskey... It's a little different."
"She can't handle her liquor." Charon chimed in, looking amused.
"Charon!" I squealed, "You're such a traitor!"
Butch laughed about as loudly and obnoxiously as ever, while Charon let out a gravelly chuckle.
"So," I began, "Tell me about what happened to get you out here. You said it was crazy in there."
"You're gonna need this," Butch said, handing the bottle over to me, holding it by the neck.
I took the bottle, "Thanks."
-
After he'd finished, I took a long drought from the bottle before passing it over to him. A slight hiccup came from deep in my burning throat and I flushed a little.
"Ya know, if it wasn't for your dad we'd all still be in that hole in the ground." Butch didn't sound like he was mocking me; on the contrary, it seemed he was praising my father in a way. However, he could have no idea how badly those words hurt right now.
I gripped at the side of the table and felt a tear betray me and slide down my cheek.
"He's dead." Charon said simply, his voice sounding about as full of emotion as usual, which wasn't saying much.
"Oh man, don't have a cow about it, I didn't know, okay?" Butch said, ever the sensitive one, as he passed me the bottle again.
-
When I woke up, I was on my bed in the Weatherly. My eyes wandered about the room. Butch was sleeping, slumped against the nearest wall to me. Charon sat in a chair across the room, reading a book. I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.