Doc Barrows just handed him 3 bloodpacks and 2 Stimpaks when he entered the Chop Shop. Test was still asleep, paler and gaunt in shivering slumber. Knox gritted his teeth. He reminded himself not to spill a drop when his trembling hands put the blood pack to his lips. Vance wouldn't like that. Barrows checked Charon. Satisfied, he gave Knox a crooked smile.
"You'd like to know that he's stable for the moment." Knox nodded. He picked up one of the Knox's holotapes. "But, you're not exactly stable are you?"
"Shit. Doc. Why you gotta be so evil?" Knox squeezed the last drops of his pack onto his tongue, feeling traces of superhumanity coursing through his veins.
"I'm just asking if you're doing fine –"
"In my head, you mean…"
"Yes, in your head." Knox dragged his eyes up Charon's form to see his bodyguard all nonchalant. Knox smirked.
"Are those innards working for you?" Knox asked instead of answering, sliding his tongue over his lower lip, catching the last traces of lifejuice.
"Yes. Perfectly." How many samples had he given Doc? How many organs had he brought back to Underworld?
"You're getting fond of me, aren't you Doc?" Knox stood up and stretched, rolling his sleeve up and offering his bare arm to Doc Barrows to get a blood sample. Doc Barrows took an empty syringe from the metal tray on his desk.
"Did you really…seduce the feral?" Nurse's voice piped up. Knox gave her an easy smile. Doc Barrows jerked his grip before clearing his throat. "You have a thing for ghouls?" Knox laughed openly at her question.
"I just have a thing for things that can fuck me up really bad." Knox licked his lips. "Like really fucking bad."
"Like raiders?" Nurse quipped. Knox snorted.
"They're jokes. Nah. And none of those Outcast Steelers shit either."
"Then like what?"
"Like guns and claws." Knox licked his lips. "And other pretty things that can scar."
Knox and Charon went into the Ninth Circle to pick up chems and alcohol. It was empty and smelt strongly of blood and puke. Winthrop followed them inside, snorting at the emptiness of the place and complaining about how Jet didn't affect ghouls. Knox gave him a withering stare as the men plonked down on empty chairs. Eyeing the corner where his bodyguard used to stand all statuesque and alert, Knox let on an amused smirk, remembering the way Charon would tell everyone to go 'Talk. To. Ahzrukhal.'
"Smoothskin. Do you know you're covered in blood and entrails?"
"Blood? Yes. Entrails? No." Knox gulped down his Nuka Cola. Charon was staring at him again. He could feel that pale gaze focus on him, probably taking note of the supposed entrails hanging over his head or something. Knox returned that stare as he gnawed on his lip, mixing the taste of blood with sweet cola. Pale eyes flitted over to his lips then back up to his eyes. Knox smirked as he coughed. "What did the Doc say? You know… about the cure and shit."
"Nothing to get excited about. He says to wait a couple of days, weeks…The feral has to ride it out," Win answered with his raspy voice and did not meet his friend's eyes. Knox let out a shuddering breath which made Win nudge the back of his hand with the bottle of vodka. "I still don't understand why you give a damn about this. You're a smoothskin," the ghoul pointed with a broken finger.
"Some of the best humans are not smoothskins, you know." Yeah, they're fucking corpses. "Besides, there IS a cure. There always is." Just a matter of time before they figured that out.
That night, when Win left, the silence closed in on the both of them. Knox blew grey smoke rings to the ceiling, head thrown back in relaxation. He was starting to get sick of his reeking clothes and this emptiness reminded him too much of Megaton. A frustrated growl left his lips when memories came to greet him. Knox closed his eyes in mid-inhale as the flashes of his doing played behind his eyes. Mostly, it was the image of a betrayed-looking Gob standing over Moriarty's mess that hurt him. Sweet Gob with the innocent eyes. Knox coughed. They had been good friends.
"Charon," he called, his voice hoarse.
"What is it?"
"Do you smoke?" His bodyguard grunted. Knox offered a stick from the pack. The heated stare-glare travelled over his face then over to the pack. Ruined fingers took one stick and placed it between equally ruined lips. Knox smirked at the sight as he leaned over and lit the stick for his companion. Charon actually widened his eyes from the sudden closeness. "I wanna ask about your story but I don't think you're gonna tell me." Charon grunted again, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Knox had come to not expect any answer from his bodyguard. He rested his aching legs onto the table after pulling his shirt off his back. Yeah. Win was right. There were entrails on him. At least the Tunnel Snake jacket was safe in his bag, gunk-free. He threw the soiled shirt somewhere near the door after wiping blood off his face. "Hey man. Can I ask you a question?" Grunt. "Did it hurt? Changing into a ghoul?" Another grunt. "See. Win says he wakes up one day and his nose falls into the sink while he's shaving." Doc Barrows thought he had become a leper when he washed his back and a strip of skin came off. Nurse cried when her hairbrush pulled out clumps of hair. Gob, having been around ghouls before it happened to him, couldn't speak a whole day when it started happening to him.
"No. It didn't hurt." Charon exhaled smoke with puckered lips, like he had been smoking all his life.
"Does it hurt now?" He shook his head. "Does it hurt more when you get injured?" A flicker of the gaze over his face and then Charon was averting his eyes to the tabletop.
"No. It feels… better." Charon smirked. Then it was gone. Knox stared at the pair of ruined lips, wondering if he even saw that small shift in expression.
"Like good better?" Charon nodded. "Makes me want to be a ghoul." Charon flickered that gaze to him - There. There was a glint of a fang. It was a very faint smirk. Very faint but there nonetheless. Knox grinned at that. He inwardly patted himself on his back for catching that expression. What a fucking challenge this man was.