His bodyguard had perfect teeth. It was one of those things that stood out that surprised him out in the Wastes. Not that every other ghoul had bad teeth, just that Charon had a perfect set of teeth. Staring at his own bared fangs, Knox knew that his teeth had seen better days; those days were in the Vault. It was a wonder why the mirror didn't crack further. Past the mirror, Test 1 was dozing off on a chair. That was definitely something new. Ferals usually crouched when they wanted to sleep; they rarely even slept at all. Test was 'beginning to show signs of recognition' of objects. 24 hours had passed. During the night, Test had peered through the bars at him with something kind of human in his manner. That surprised and bothered him. Charon cocked his shotgun when Knox pulled off the ghoul mask. Immediately a clawed hand shot through the bars and grabbed at his shirt, wrenching him to the bars. His jaw crashed against the metal but he pressed a hand to Charon's chest, stopping him from blowing off Test. Charon's heart beat strongly against his palm. Knox waited for the slash across his chest, face, whatever but it didn't come. Instead, there was a gruff sob in his ear and a callous palm rubbed his cheek. In front of him, he could see a kind of recognition in the feral's eyes. There was no viciousness in them. It was just like Doc Barrows predicted.

"Stand down, Charon," he said before unlocking the gate and entering the prison. Charon followed behind. They locked the bars behind them.

---

Holotape Log 7

There was something in that serum Doc. I don't know what it is. But you're right. Test became docile. He hasn't attacked me at tall. But he hasn't touched anything I've offered him either. No food. No water. I've even offered him my flesh. He just sniffed it, touched it, then proceeded to stare at me throughout the night. I…I think he's in pain… I can see it in the way he moves around, but there are no outward signs of distress. I…don't understand what the fuck is going on.

---

Charon never stopped being alert. He was like a goddamn lightbulb that wouldn't quit sparkling when you shut the lights out. Knox's perception had always been good, but this was beyond ridiculous. He couldn't even close his eyes because of the bundle of stable contained energy his bodyguard had. Those fucking eyes in that fucking gaze. It was strange and intense and worse than when it had been in the Ninth Circle. This gaze was heated and icy at the same time, like metal on the skin, like a switchblade cutting a thin line on his arms and chest, pushing up tiny, bubbles of red on the path. Knox shuddered at the image. Damn. He needed to carve people up. Then he twisted his switchblade into a scorched book to suppress the actual urge to put knife to skin.

"Hey man. Don't you sleep?" he asked after injecting another dose into Test. Test flinched in his sleep but didn't wake.

"Do you require me to sleep?" Charon replied gruffly. Knox leaned on the table as he stared at his bodyguard who was stoic all over again.

"Aren't you tired?" Charon grunted. "Didn't you sleep when you were with Ahz?"

"I don't talk about former employers."

"Then talk about evil bastards." That intense stare changed a little; how he couldn't tell. Just…lighter somehow. "Did he let you sit down? Nap? Everytime I step in there, you're all heroic and shit. And you never move. You must be boss of those 'don't move when the music stops' games."

"I had standing orders to make sure there was no trouble." Charon rolled his shoulders like a shrug but frankly, Knox didn't even know if it was supposed to be a shrug.

"So, you didn't sleep?" Charon grunted.

"I adapted."

He actually flinched when Knox dared a tentative touch on his weapon hand, but didn't move away. Something flashed in his pale eyes, then. Anger maybe? Annoyance? Knox pressed a palm on the flesh now, feeling the human warmth from his bodyguard. It was strange. He expected Charon to feel like Win. But Charon felt like Harold, the talking ghoul tree thing. Rough and gnarly but warm and sleek. Not exactly warm, it was more like burning warmth. Pulsing. Alive. Underneath all that mess was the slight tingling of radiation. It was fascinating. Win definitely did not feel like this. Carol even. He ran a thumb over the mangled wrist where the strong pulse met his skin.

"What is it, Master?"

"It's Knox," he said simply, voice low and even, as he commanded for Charon to call him by name. It wasn't a choice. It was an order. It was getting easier to order Charon around and it scared Knox. Knox trailed his knuckles over Charon's and the fingers twitched. "You feel different."

"What is it? How do you want me?" Knox noted the choice of words as he let his eyes meet those of his bodyguard's.

"Calm. Talking. Alive." He lifted his hands off the flesh and walked to Test who was still asleep. "Free." Test felt… like a feral. Shrivelled, dry and almost devoid of life. He wasn't warm. He was cold to the touch, like he had already died and his vessel contained ashes instead of flame. Knox placed a hand over where Test's heart would be and it was there, weakly beating in time to shallow breaths. He was dying… like all the other tests did. Knox grimaced as he turned away, struggling to breathe as a kind of bloodlust crawled over him. He wanted to break things, watch them shatter and crash and smother in destruction. Helplessness had this effect on him. He moved to one of the bookshelves where his combat knife lay. He picked it up then slowly, pressed it against his hipbone which jutted out over his low-slung pants. The sharp metal was cool on his skin but scorching hot when it sank into pliant flesh. Knox let out a low hiss at the sudden pain, and then pulled the tip of the blade out. Red trickled down the skin where the cut was.

This was what a smoothskin felt like. Burning with lifejuice.