He dreamt of crazy things that night. He still felt something nasty moving in his body that couldn't contain it. Wadsworth hovered by his bedroom door. He briefly wondered how he made it back to his house after all that alcohol. Sure, it was just whiskey but he had never been much of a good drunk. Fuck. He was a horrible drunk. Hearing shuffling footsteps downstairs, he realised that it was his bodyguard who brought him back.

"Tin Can…" he called his butler.

"Ah, you're awake, Sir. Did you have a good rest?"

"I missed you, man."

"I'm sure you did, Sir." Wads made a tut-tut sound as he floated over to Knox's pile of soiled clothes by the floor. Okay. When did that happen? Charon must have stripped him. Gah. He must have really been out of it. Still, he and Gob, they were doing okay, weren't they? Like old times. They talked the whole evening about nothing and everything. Doc told him about the cure. Knox told him small little non-disturbing things. Charon was as stoic as ever as he sat beside his employer. Halfway through the night, Knox started staring at Charon and would not stop. He wanted to say something but his mouth wouldn't let him. He wanted to thank him, to apologise, to fucking…ask him why the hell he did all he did, but he couldn't. Charon just stared at him. And he stared back.

When he turned around to stand up from the bed, he felt the smoothness of paper on his chest. The contract. In his haste to escape from the meat packing plant, he stuffed it into his undershirt. He took it out now and replayed the previous day's events, shuddering as he remembered the rough manhandling…especially when it came from his own bodyguard. He remembered that determined gunshot that speared through him and jolted. He pressed the wound on his navel.

That would never happen again.

If he had died… Charon and Doc would still be with Burke right now, working against their will for the evil bastard.

Knox gripped the sheets as his body convulsed. Something was really not right.

"Would Sir like a drink?" Knox nodded weakly and the robot extended a bottle of purified water to him. Knox gulped it down.

He went downstairs to see Charon look up from the couch he sat on. There was something changed in his gaze that Knox couldn't place. There was something changed in the way his own body reacted as well. He stopped in his tracks, working out the many ways to talk to his bodyguard. He hadn't really spoken to him after the 'goodbye' speech. Charon stared at him. And he stared back like…like he had no idea who this person was.

"Did you carry me here?" Charon grunted. That meant 'Yes'. "Am I heavy?" Charon shrugged and grumbled something. Knox coughed. He fingered the edge of the crinkly paper. "Hey man, we gotta talk."

"If conversation is what you wish then I shall give it."

"You really thought I was gonna leave you there, huh?"

"I do not judge my employer's-"

"Come on, man. Don't do this to me." Okay. Something was definitely not right. "Just…" Knox flopped onto the couch, sighing in exasperation. "I was supposed to die." Knox coughed. "You were supposed to blow me to bits. Like you did to Ahzrukhal when he lost your contract," he growled. "I was ready to die, dammit. I was ready. You could…" He took a deep breath. "I wasn't your employer when you were beating me up, was I?" He turned to face Charon who was eyeing him with something heated. "Why didn't you just kill me? Why'd you risk it? If Burke found out…you'd be dead."

"I have my own sense of morality." Charon raised his chin like he was looking down on Knox.

"If I told you to kill me now, would you?" Charon grunted. "Then why didn't you when you had the chance?"

"That was somebody else's order."

"But it was Burke's, your employer's, wish."

"I was following orders. The bastard ordered to shoot you. I did."

"He meant kill. And you knew that. You fucking knew that, Charon." Charon looked thoughtful for a moment, but didn't say anything. Knox stared at him.

"Charon?"

"Yes, Boss."

"You called me by name." No response apart from the steely gaze. "I want you to wait here in Megaton. I need to go on a trip. I'd like you to watch my back but I think Doc would appreciate your presence. Help him will you? He's not that comfortable around this many smoothskins. Make yourself at home here okay?" Knox gestured to the house. "Tin can will listen to you." He got up from the couch, meeting the pale gaze. "I'll come back."

He explained to Doc Barrows that he had to leave for a while. Moira hugged him. She wrapped her hands around him and pulled him close. He was too stunned to do anything, just let himself be handled. The last time someone hugged him like that…it was in the Vault. And it was Amata. Knox told Moira she felt smooth and soft. Nothing like what ghouls felt at all. Nothing like how people prone to killing felt. She said he was an angel. Somewhere to the left, Doc Church snorted. Charon gave Doc Church a hard stare which made the doctor mumble something unintelligible.

He said goodbye to Gob who loaded him with colas; Knox declined all the alcohol. Knox made about to leave. Charon opened the door for him.

"Did you kill Ahzrukhal too?" Gob suddenly asked him. There was a kind of amusement tinged in the tone. Knox stared up at Charon who stared down at him. Knox chuckled.

"Nah. Was all Charon." Gob snickered.

"He scares me more than smoothskins," Gob said. Charon's eyes darted to the barkeep.

"He scares the shit out of me too." Knox lit up a smoke. "But he's fucking awesome." He brushed past his bodyguard.

He wore the Regulator duster today for the heck of it. Beside him, Charon stood stoic, eyeing him strangely. Knox met that stare and then averted his eyes. The situation called for some goodbye speech or whatever but Knox didn't feel like it was truly necessary. He had done it once. Anyway, he was coming home to Charon wasn't he? Knox set his pip-boy for the Duchess Gambit, trudging into the scorching heat as he pulled down the brim of his hat to cover his eyes. He could feel that steely gaze for miles, but when he turned around, Charon was already gone.

It felt strange to be alone after being constantly observed by far too efficient bodyguards. It felt strange that there wasn't that heated gaze at the back of his neck, crawling on perceptive skin. Knox pulled the collar of the duster higher, glancing frequently at his pip-boy.

"You lost?" A silky voice with a thick accent jolted him from his thoughts. "Or did you finally come for a visit?"

"Good to see you Nadine." He handed her a bottle of cola. "I need a favour." She stood up from her hammock and ruffled his already long hair.

Hours later, they were floating in the Potomac listening to GNR and Three Dog's stories. Knox tipped the bottle of cola into his mouth, managing to spill some over his neck as he jerked in sudden pain.

"Told ya," a gruff voice said to him and he looked down to see Troy giving him a smug grin while the blade of the scalpel disappeared into his skin.

"Okay, so it hurt more than I expected." Troy continued working over the thin black lines drawn over his torso. Dimly in the back of his mind, Knox noticed that DAMN… that was a shitload of lines. Knox placed the bottle onto the floor as he picked up the other scalpel that had his blood on it as well. He contemplated licking the blade – it was his fucking blood anyway. "You think maybe I could… do it myself?"

"Think you can cut deep enough?"

"I'll cut too deep."

"First cut is always the deepest, baby," Nadine said as she hovered over him and drank from the bottle of cola before landing a kiss on Troy's cheek. "How's it feeling so far?"

"Pretty good, actually," Knox murmured. He watched Troy roll off a piece of his skin that was in the shape of a 'T'. "How long will it take?"

"A couple of days? I don't know."

When they were done with his front, it was 3 am the next day and he couldn't move. Nadine had this expression on her face that was a mix of pity and awe. She sat beside the cot he was lying on and she brushed a finger on one of the cut letters. He hissed. She apologised.

"Why are you doing this?" Her voice was broken. Troy stepped into the room and placed a hand on her bare shoulder which had Troy's name scarred into it. "Is this pain worth it?" she asked as she ran soft fingers through his hair. Knox smiled up at the couple.

"Does it seem like it's worth it?" Knox drawled as he moved his body, hissing when his muscles shifted. He wanted to get up; Troy stopped him with a smooth palm on his chest. "I can take it. I ain't gonna die from-"

"Sure, man. We all know who ya are." Troy calmly handed him a mirror. Knox surveyed the handiwork with a low whistle. The deep ridges of white-red meat in the shape of fine letters spread over his body. He could only see them because his whole skin was red, swollen and raw in contrast to the paler flesh that had been hidden under layers of skin. There was a smattering of blood in those trenches. The pile of curly meat on the pan next to the cot belonged to him, didn't it? The skin shavings used to be a part of his body. Andale towners would like to fry those shavings up. He traced the letters with his little finger and shivered at the pain he felt. "Won't come out perfect if you keep moving around."

"No one does."

He spent the rest of the night dipping his finger in the gunshot scar Charon had caused. He decided not to taint it with letters. It would forever serve as a reminder telling him to 'be cautious' because he had not one, but two lives in his hands as long as he held that contract. Every time he felt that scar, he remembered the shot and the unexpected pain. In his mind, he lengthened the journey it took for the bullet to rip through his abdomen, out his back and into the floor. Lifejuice spilling out of him. Lifejuice spilling into his lips when the hand pressed his open mouth. The feel of twisted sinews, tightness of skin on his tongue as he inhaled all that beautiful lifejuice… it was something very different than what he was used to. And yet, it felt like nothing different. Knox swallowed, feeling the tingling he felt these days rack through his body. He reached next to him for the crinkly yellow paper and the box of smokes. Biting down on a cigarette, he traced every word on the contract currently carved into him. His body was actually, quite numb with very minute pinpricks of pain. He couldn't sleep a wink.

It took two days before he could lie on his front so that they could do his back. It took a week before everything was mostly healed. When he stretched his muscles, there were trickles of pain running down his body. That was fine. He thanked the couple for their patience and hospitality and they thanked him for the things Three Dog said he did. They said they were going to have a baby. Knox eyed them and smiled, feeling claustrophobic and touched that the Wastes hadn't broken everyone yet. He felt tense again…yet these days the tension disappeared in a heartbeat. He shrugged the duster onto his bare shoulders and placed the hat on his head.

This was worth it, wasn't it? This had to be done. It had. So there won't be a repeat in the events. So his bodyguard wouldn't have to be in another evil bastard's care. So he wouldn't have to take jackshit from nobody who wanted to fuck anyone else up. Every step he took made the skin scratch the inside of the coat. It hurt. This was worth it. It was.

Note: If anyone wants to know what scarification is: http: // en .wikipedia .org /wiki/Scarification

And here's a video if you want to see the process: http : // www. You tube. com/ watch?v=L2gglbwg5Fs&feature=related Warning: it is an extremely graphic video. But I'm sure it'll give you a good idea of what Knoxxie was going through.

Get rid of the spaces in the links.