Sarah Lyons' world was currently experiencing a paradigm shift for a number of reasons. This morning, the worst thing she had to contend with was trying to figure out more efficient ways to track and eliminate the Super Mutant problem. The Brotherhood had been experiencing more and more resistance from the massive green monstrosities as time went on, and it was driving all of them crazy trying to figure out where they were coming from. In the past few months, it seemed like they were literally streaming into the DC core, almost as if they were searching for something. They had been seen dragging people away alive on more than one occasion, and the Scribes were baffled as to why some were killed, and others were carted away for God only knew what purpose. There were only two reasons the things would haul you off, and Sarah didn't like to think about either one of them. She wasn't sure which was worse.

What had tipped off this particular day as a banner affair was the sudden appearance of the Enclave across the Potomac. They had descended on the Jefferson Memorial like an armoured hammer sometime before noon, and were currently occupying it with a force field and any number of troops. Spotty reports were coming in from different units all over the city about them setting up small camps, and from the amount of Vertibirds that Bael reported spreading out, it was a safe bet that they had started filtering out through the Capital Wasteland. Sarah had wanted to organize resistance immediately, but her father Owyn Lyons had pressured her into waiting for more information to drift in, not wanting to initiate a flat-out war while the Brotherhood was spread so thin. While agreeing, she had already decided to subtly drop hints within Paladin Glade's hearing about how it would be prudent for the Outcasts to be informed of the changed power dynamic in the Wasteland as soon as possible, knowing that he at least sympathized and possibly traded information with them somehow. Even if they were prone to shooting at each other, both were still factions of the same machine, and neither had any great love for the remnants of the old government.

Finishing it up as something that would take a long time to shift from her memory, if it was even possible that it would, was the reappearance of the Vault kid the Pride had met at GNR and the staff of Project Purity(something so long-forgotten that it was almost an old wives' tale to the younger Knights and Paladins), and the biggest damn ghoul Sarah had ever seen in her life. Doctor Li's appearance had sparked another argument concerning laying an offensive against the Enclave, once the woman had explained that the project leader James, Cort's father, had determined a way for the Purifier to actually work. Again Owyn had talked her down, along with Li, and then turned his attention to the ghoul and his pathetic bundle. Sarah wasn't entirely sure what had happened to the kid, only that her father's extremely recent death had had something to do with it, and she looked entirely shattered.

After finding out the only thing that passed for medical care in the Citadel was their dodgy Mister Gusty Sawbones, Li had demanded and received a room to put Cort in, which Sarah volunteered to lead them to, the Sentinel trying to keep a weather eye on the ghoul as he walked silently behind her. The room was dingy and small, but had working lights and a locking door. Set off one of the main corridors in A-Ring, they used it for the rare guest they had to entertain, or anyone who needed privacy of an intimate nature. Sarah had waited outside long enough for Li to reemerge, and then led the woman back to her father, where she briefed them fully on what had occurred that afternoon. After giving a complete rundown, the scientist had demanded lab space to continue her work in along with her staff, and Sarah nearly boggled when her father again capitulated almost immediately.

Left at loose ends when both Li and Owyn suddenly broke off to address their new concerns, she decided to check on the Vault kid. It had been months since she had seen the girl, and Sarah had personally always found a familiar face after going through a stressful situation to be helpful. Anything would have to be better than staying with a dim-witted ghoul that was probably barely smarter than the dog. She had been incredulous when Li had insisted the creature stay with Cort by itself, and again told, not asked, her father to ensure he would not be harassed, talking to him in a low aside about James' wishes(and again, he had folded without resistance. Whatever superpowers the woman had over the Elder, Sarah wanted them in spades).

Coming up to the room again, she paused for a moment, and then knocked on the door instead of barging in like she would normally do. After what Li had told them, Cort and her companions were probably still wound up, and the last thing she needed to do was start an inadvertent shooting match inside the Citadel. She was impatiently lifting her fist to knock again when a short whuff followed by a deep rasping voice issued out from the other side.

"Come in." Entering the room, she tried not to make a face at the smell of the ghoul in the enclosed area and then gaped anyway at what she saw. The Vault kid was stripped down to her underwear, limply sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at nothing, her dog standing behind her, pressed against her back. Looking at her, Sarah winced. The amount of scars visible over her was staggering, even with the majority of her covered in smeared blood and dirt. She had accumulated in a few months what looked like a lifetime total for some of the older -much older- Brotherhood members. How the hell is she even still alive, looking like that? Noticing the almost raw tissue running up her wrists, she blanched, realizing what had happened. Fuck kid. There's enough shit out there trying to get you without helping it along. Glancing across the room when she heard a noise, she saw the big ghoul was crouched over a loaded pack with a combat helmet in his hands, and he froze when he looked up and saw her. She blinked, puzzled when he turned to scowl at the dog lying on the bed and started scolding it. "I thought you said it was okay to let them in. Who the hell is that, anyway?"

The dog stared back at him blandly, in what she could only read as a 'why are you asking me, idiot' look, and Sarah shook her head to clear it, finding everything already far too surreal for her liking. "I'm Sentinel Sarah Lyons, and-" She glared at the ghoul, outraged when he cut her off and continued moving back to the bed, kneeling beside it and setting the helmet next to the girl, upside down.

"Oh. Yeah, she talked about you. What the hell do you want."

"I wanted to see how the kid was doing. Doctor Li said she was awake but pretty torn up. I-I wasn't expecting this though."

"Who the fuck would." Sarah opened her mouth to respond, and then stopped. The ghoul had pulled a dripping rag out of the helmet and wrung it out over the top of it, the drops plinking back into the water she now realized it was filled with. Dumbfounded, she watched as he started to gently clean Cort's face, washing it thoroughly and then moving down to her neck as the dog sat down and started licking at her back. He was carefully rubbing the cloth around the inside of her right ear when he angrily glanced back over. "Well? Did you just come to watch her like some freak show, or is there something else you required?" Not waiting for an answer he moved his attention to her hands, holding up the helmet to soak the left one in, the Pip-Boy's glove turned almost entirely black from the gore smeared over it. Discomfited by what he had said, Sarah spoke up again as he started to clean each of the kid's fingers, delicately working a folded point of the rag under each nail as he moved along her hand.

"Did you need anything?" He stopped, looking almost comically surprised for a moment before the previous morose expression came back to replace it and he continued his work.

"More water. A bucket of it, at least. I'll run out of what we have before I finish. And clean blankets." He paused again. "Please."

"I'll be right back." Leaving the room and quietly shutting the door, Sarah went to get the items herself instead of delegating the task to an initiate, not wanting anyone else to see the kid in the state she was in. Hell, I'd beat the living shit out of anyone who saw me like that, and most of the initiates aren't big on brains. They'd probably panic and shoot the ghoul on sight. She grimaced internally, thinking about the newest crop of Wastelander recruits. Or try to and fail horribly. By the time she had got back with a filled bucket in each hand and a blanket tucked under both arms, the water in the helmet was entirely opaque and the ghoul had stopped using it, instead doing something she found even more bizarre. "You're brushing her hair?"

He leveled a disgusted stare at her before returning to the snarl he was working out of the tangled black mass. "Obviously."

Sarah stood there feeling stupid for a while, and angry at herself for doing so. I'm the leader of Lyon's Pride, the most elite squad of the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel, and a damned rotbag is making me feel like a moron. This is such a proud moment in my career. She opened her mouth, then quickly swore at herself for how idiotic she sounded. "I brought your stuff." Striding over, she dropped the buckets next to him and threw the blankets at the foot of the bed.

"Thank you." Putting the brush down when he had finished, he pulled the closest bucket over and resumed cleaning the filth off of Cort, having stopped at her midriff. He silently made his way down to her feet before looking back over. "Turn around."

"What?"

"If you're not going to leave, then turn the fuck around. She won't like you watching this." He stared at her, clearly exasperated when all she did was scowl at him, then hooked one finger under the strap of the kid's bra and raised an eyebrow, the dog astonishingly turning his head far enough to give her the same look. "I need to clean the rest of her off and change her clothes. This thing is supposed to be white, not red. So if you really wouldn't mind, be polite, turn around, and let her keep whatever fucking dignity she has left to hold onto or get the fuck out." Flushing out of embarrassment and indignation, Sarah did as she was directed. If he was any indication, ghouls were a lot more articulate than she had been led to believe, and it was throwing her off her normal authoritative stride. Staring at the wall, she found it was much easier to think when she was only listening and not directly looking at the insanely odd trio.

"So where the hell did she pick you up? She only had the dog with her when she encountered the us the last time."

"Underworld. Ghoul city."

"Of course, where else. Stupid question. Mercenary?"

"Yes."

"You work for her?"

"I am hers."

Watching him reach past her into one of the packs against the wall to pull out a clean set of underthings and a faded Vault suit, Sarah wrinkled her nose in disgust. Cort hadn't struck her as the slaver type, and the idea of owning even a ghoul was distasteful. "She bought you?"

"Fuck no, shithead. That's not what I meant."

Bristling at the insult, she snapped back at him. "Then what the fuck did you mean, rotface?" She listened as he sighed and finished redressing the kid, hearing him slowly run the zipper up the suit.

"I'm hers, she's mine. We're together."

Sarah spun around, morally affronted on a deep personal level. "What? But you're...you're...that's disgusting!"

He shrugged, carefully rolling a sock up one of Cort's feet. "I agree. Cort however, will break your fucking face for saying that."

"Yeah well, she doesn't look like she could break a sweat right now." Sarah instantly regretted the petty words before they were entirely out of her mouth, having genuinely liked the kid when they parted back at GNR. Seeing the naked grief breaking out on the ghoul's ruined face before he could hide it turned the regret into shocked sadness and guilt. "I'm sorry. It's just people don't normally, well, ever...I mean, even think about that."

"She's not normal. She's different." Moving the fouled helmet and bucket aside after finishing with the other sock, he then picked Cort up and braced her against his right hip. Motioning the dog off of the bed with his free hand, he flicked one of the blankets out over the mattress when the animal jumped down, tugging at the corners to spread it evenly before laying her back onto it. Folding her arms neatly over her front, he spread the other blanket over her and tucked it in as Sarah walked over to look at her. Her eyes were still open and still vacant, caught up in a thousand-yard stare that she recognized.

"Yeah, I remember." The ghoul sat down beside Cort and started stroking her hair as the dog hopped back up to press against her side. Infuriatingly finding herself wanting to make up to them both for being rude, she blurted out something reassuring to him. "She'll get better, you know. I've seen this before."

"What?" He whipped his head up and stared at her, chalky eyes making direct eye contact and holding it for the first time since she had come in.

"It's shell shock. Battle fatigue, stress disorder. Whatever you want to call it, the scribes give it a new label every few years. Same shit, different name. We get some initiates in with it every few months when fighting with the Super Mutants gets particularly bad. Sometimes the higher ranks, but not often."

"How do I fix her." The ghoul looked at her avidly, his face almost feverishly hopeful as the sullenness dropped away from it, and Sarah tried to remember everything they had done for the members who had suffered through it for him.

"Treat her like you normally would. Talk to her, take her out around the Citadel where she can see people. A-Ring is a good place to start, the mess hall is in here, the Great Hall. All of the Pride will talk to her, they know her already and I'll tell them what's going on. You'll probably have to carry her for the first little while, then lead her, then just tell her to follow you." Sarah delicately cleared her throat. "Feed her, take her to the washroom. She should eat and, uh, otherwise when you prompt her to automatically. Eventually, she'll start doing everything herself and come out of it entirely."

Giving her a relieved and almost peaceful expression, he quickly scowled again, moving his unsettling eyes to stare at her armour. "Do I have to worry about anyone trying to blow my fucking brains out if I go outside, or did Li take care of that?"

"She talked to Elder Lyons, yes. I'll make sure that everyone knows it as well."

He snorted. "And that'll work?"

"Anyone who even thinks about going against my orders automatically risks losing part of their anatomy. Usually the fun parts." Sarah wasn't positive, but she thought she saw the ghoul's mouth twitch at her statement.

"You have an armoury, right?"

Sarah started at the bizarre question. "We're the fucking Brotherhood of Steel, what do you think." She definitely saw his mouth twitch this time, she was sure of it.

"Can you store our weapons there? Li said to keep her away from them. I'll need to sleep eventually, and I can't have them in the room, she's too quick." His hand tightened in her hair before he let go, smoothing it out again. "She's always too quick. I didn't see it."

Tactfully ignoring his last statement, she nodded. "Of course, just get them together and I'll take them down." Getting up, he walked over to the packs and pulled a tattered blanket loose, then laid an old repeater and a combat shotgun on top of it, following them with a 10mm pistol from his hip. Sarah watched bemusedly and then rapidly changed the expression to nonplussed as the ghoul continued to pile their arsenal together. Following the 10mm were four identical spares and a silenced one, then two Chinese assault rifles, a baseball bat, a retractable police baton, a pile of mines, a ludicrous amount of pulse and frag grenades from both packs and the pouches on his belts, no less than five combat knives, three switchblades, and a short club with a smeared green end that she couldn't make heads or tails out of. She was moving to bundle it together when the ghoul clapped his hands, the dog hopping down immediately and coming over to him. Opening pouches on the animal's armour, he pulled out another 10mm, even more grenades, and then amazingly removed a scoped .44 Magnum that most of the small arms specialists in the Citadel would have killed to own. Crossing her arms and shaking her head, she raised an eyebrow. "Is that it, or is the Fat Man she had before hidden up one of your asses?"

Another mouth twitch. "No, I made her leave that behind." Wrapping the bundle up, he tied it off with a length of rope withdrawn from one of the packs, then started removing his armour.

"Smart move. She was way too goofy over that thing for it to be safe." He got a strange, introspective look at her words, and made his next statement almost to himself.

"She named the fucking thing George and actually slept with it on the way back to Megaton."

Sarah snorted and grinned, picturing what he said all too easily. "You're shitting me."

"Do I look like I'm shitting you?" He barked out a surprised laugh before his face fell again, and he ran a hand over it, squeezing his temples as he closed his eyes. Sighing heavily, he went back to removing the rest of his armour, piling everything neatly in the far corner before returning to sit next to Cort and the dog. He looked monumentally exhausted, and Sarah decided it was time to leave, the strange, somehow enlightening conversation she had just had with the ghoul making her feel like she had spent too long trying to run uphill. Picking up the bundle of weapons, she paused at the door, wanting to know something she suddenly found to be very important.

"What's your name?"

He looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Charon."

"Good luck, Charon."

"Thanks, Sarah."


Thanks for the new reviews and favs! And suspense is fun, c'mon admit it. :]